


Written on a Whim

by niennavalier



Series: Written on a Whim [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Flash (TV 2014), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Erebor Reclaimed, Angst and Tragedy, BotFA, Calculus, Child Abuse, Death, Drabbles, Drunken Shenanigans, Embarrassment, Erebor, Erebor Reclaimed, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Gold Sick Fíli, Gold Sickness, Humor, Integration, Math, Minas Tirith, Modern Girl in Middle Earth, Original Character Death(s), Physics, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Battle of Five Armies, Pre-Reichenbach, Relativity, Return of the King, Rivendell, Romance, Sad Ending, Science, The Citadel, Tragedy, Tragic Romance, Tumblr Prompts, because denethor is a terrible person and I literally hate him, cuteness, defending faramir, just all my random drabbles, modern references, multi-fandom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2018-04-09 07:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4338557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niennavalier/pseuds/niennavalier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically just all the Tumblr imagines and stuff that I decide to fill. Because I figured I might as well put them all in one place. Some humor, some fluff, some angst - running the gamut here, really. And varying POVs: third person  with an original character, some second person, reader-insert-y stuff, depending on what I'm in the mood for.</p><p>And here's kind of a key-thing so if you're not interested in all the fandoms I'm writing for, you can see where to go:<br/>TH: The Hobbit<br/>LOTR: Lord of the Rings<br/>SH: BBC Sherlock<br/>MCU: Marvel (generally movie-verse)<br/>DCTV: CW's TV 'verse (Flash, Legends of Tomorrow, Arrow, Supergirl)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. TH: Integrals, Relativity, and Kepler's Law

**Author's Note:**

> First one up is the one I literally just finished ten minutes ago. Based on imaginexhobbit's post "Imagine telling the Company about technology advancement and complex mathematics" because I'm a big nerd. But feel free to correct me if anything is wrong. Kind of written as ThorinxOC if you want to see it that way, but it doesn't get far. And I didn't name my OC. Cause I suck at names.  
> Disclaimer: Don't own anything, obviously.

    Despite it all, Middle Earth and the Journey undertaken by the Company of Thorin Oakenshield did not turn out to be everything which she had expected. As much as she had brushed it off before, her entire generation was so damned dependent on modern day commodities. What was the saying? You never know how much you loved something until you lost it? Something like that.

    "You alright, lass?"

    She looked up from where she lay against the trunk of a thick tree, stilling her fingers tapping against the hard cover of her textbook. "Yeah, I'm all good, Bofur, thanks. Just miss home a little." She thought an extra second, only then realizing who she was speaking to. Honestly, she had nothing on the dwarves; they hadn’t seen their home for a far longer time than she, so there really wasn’t any right for her to even try to complain. “I mean, nothing like you guys, nowhere even close. Just, running water sounds nice right now.”

    The dwarf quirked his head a bit, his mustache swaying with the movement. “There’s a river right around here if you need it. I’d be happy to show you -”

    “Oh!” she laughed slightly at the dwarf’s confusion. Although, she had to admit, she’d taken a liking to Bofur; he was a nice enough character, and Tolkien didn’t do him near enough justice.” No, I don’t mean like that. I mean, back home, we’ve got pipes and stuff in our homes to bring water to us to bathe and everything like that. So much easier. And warmer too!” She leaned her head back, thinking of her suburban house and family, before turning to find the confusion on her companion’s face. “But you probably don’t want to hear about all that. Me and my pathetic little problems.”

    “No, nothing like that, lass!” Bofur broke out of his trance, crouching down next to her now. “Just puzzled, is all. Is your entire world like this?”

    “Well…” The smile spread across her face as she contemplated where to begin. “Basically, yes.”

* * *

**  
**     The time passed quickly after that, the last of the sunlight fading fully to black, and nightfall found her still explaining a number of things to the now-grown group of curious dwarves. Fili and Kili had seen her gesturing excitedly with her hands as she talked about technology, and a few random questions had brought her upon more scientific topics. Add in a handful more dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard, and soon enough near the entire Company was gathered around to hear her stories, each group of them questioning her on different areas simultaneously.

    “So this thing,” Kili fingered her phone, which she had so foolishly left on the grass, “what does it do?”

    “That,” she snatched it from his fingers, despite its inherent uselessness, given its dead battery and lack of any sort of reception or WiFi, “is a cell phone, and it’s used to contact people over long distances and it is mine.” She sent a playful glare at the young dwarf. “No touching.”

    “Aw, but -”

    “No, Kili. It cost a lot, and my parents will kill me if I lose it before I get back.”

    “Excuse me,” came the hesitant voice of Ori, who was unsurprisingly poring over her abandoned textbook.

    “Yes, Ori?” she immediately responded, turning her back on the younger of the princes, laughing to herself as she heard him splutter in an attempt to reclaim her attention.

    “What does this mean?” He pointed to a seemingly random point on an equally random page of her obscenely heavy calculus textbook.

    She traced the line of his finger, internally groaning a bit at the symbol before her. It wasn’t that she didn’t get it, but it was a pain in the ass most of the time to actually work out. “That’d be integration.”

    He locked his ever-curious gaze on her. “And what is that?”

    “It’s…” she paused, trying to figure out how to explain such a concept. There was a whole course dedicated to learning all the concepts of calculus before this, after all. “Well…” she sat down next to the dwarf, beginning to draw in the dusty dirt, “It’s basically if you take this graph of a line,” she drew a simple line against an x-y axis, “and go from here, which is the bottom number near that long S, to here, the top number.” With each word, she pointed out each part, hoping that this sort of, maybe made some sense to the young scribe. “And then if you change around all these numbers with a bunch of rules, you get the area underneath it.” She gestured to the space beneath her hastily drawn line.

    “So then,” Fili suddenly appeared, apparently having listened in, “what’s that actually used for?”

    “Um,” she thought. What was the application? Or, what was an application they might understand? The amount of water flowing into a tube or something like that didn’t sound all too interesting, even less so here. “Well, you can look at total amount of money and stuff like that…”

    “Money?” Gloin piped up as Fili just frowned a bit, continuing without acknowledging the older dwarf.

    “But nothing more practical?” Fili questioned again.

    “Ah...well, not everything in math and science and all is always very applicable to everyday life…”

    “Not everything?”

    “I mean, like,” it didn’t take long to rack her brain for an appropriately confusing scientific topic, “there’s this thing called relativity. And it’s super cool, but it involves the speed of light and -”

    “Speed of light?”

    “Really fast,” she specified flippantly.

    “Well, that sounds helpful!” Nori came out of quite literally nowhere, and she jumped in surprise, just glad not to have actually screamed.

    “Umm, no, it’s not,” she bit back, inserting the right amount of venom into her words.

    “Why not?”

    “Because if you’re not a photon of light, then you can’t do that. And besides, even if you could  do that, weird stuff would happen.”

    “Like?” Fili prompted, shouldering past Nori.

    “Time slows down, lengths get shorter, stuff like that that shouldn’t be possible, all because people decided that reference points make a difference in how things fundamentally work. Or appear, at least. Relativity in a nutshell for you.”

    “But how…” Fili trailed off suddenly, as did the background chatter of the other dwarves. She turned to follow the others’ lines of sight, freezing at the ice blue eyes boring into her form.

    Shit.

    “Uh, Thorin...I...umm…” It hadn’t been until then when she realized exactly how much time she had caused the rest of the Company to waste, time probably spent on much better things.

    Shit, again.

    “The rest of you, set up camp for the night. You,” he fixated his gaze on her again, and she just felt lucky she didn’t spontaneously combust under his glare, scientifically possible or not, “come with me.”  
    “Thorin,” Gandalf attempted to mediate the impending fit of anger, but the dwarf was quick to silence him.

    “This is none of your concern.” His eyes shifted back to her. “Come.”

    So she followed, outwardly cool, but inwardly panicking. Thorin was known to be brooding and serious, but she was good to honest terrified. And to get taken, alone, into some deeper part of the wood, well, all she wanted was to make sure she might survive long enough to return home at some point. That was really it.

    Eventually, they came to a stop at some arbitrary point. Or, rather, Thorin stopped and she maintained the same, careful distance.

    He spoke first - it was not as though she was willing to, exactly - but his words were not the ones she had expected. Reprimands, or threats, she would not have been surprised by. But instead, without turning, he asked, “So you know a lot about this world?”

    Taken aback, she answered carefully. “Well, a lot about my world, sort of,  but I guess some of the laws are transferrable. I don’t really see why not. Why do you ask?”

    He finally spun to see her, the softness in his eyes even more unexpected than the initial question. “I overheard you as you spoke to them.”

    “Yeah, and about that, I’m really sorry. I took up a lot of time, but I got carried away and -”

    But instead he chuckled. It seemed the surprises never would end. “There’s no need to apologize. I thought it was fascinating.” He stepped closer, close enough to send flutters of nervousness through her chest. Didn’t help either that they weren’t far different in height; she was human, obviously, but short back in her world, and apparently that made for a height in Middle Earth just barely greater than that of the dwarves. “I think you are fascinating.”

    “Me?” she asked incredulously. “No, you’re completely reading me wrong. There’s very little interesting about me, I swear.”

    “I would beg to differ,” he stated simply, looking now to the stars in the sky. “I can assume you know about them as well?”

    “Enough to navigate life. Giant balls of gas that combine hydrogen into helium to make light that travels across the entire universe until it reaches us. And explode at the end of their lives to make gas clouds of the most beautiful colors you’d ever see.” She sighed, sitting down and leaning against a tree to stargaze, only partially aware of the dwarf settling down at her side. It was the first time she’d ever actually took notice of the stars, too caught up in the journey to pay attention until that point. “The constellations,” she mused, “yours are different, the pictures in the sky.”

    “Pictures?”

    “Yeah. Draw lines between the stars and make pictures. Back home, we’ve got animals and people and a couple cooking pots.” She could hear him laugh airily at that, and she pulled her head up and turned to the side to better see him. “Hey, it’s still amazing, though. Just think, around some of those stars are a bunch of other worlds, some like this one and some not, all orbiting around their own suns.” She mimicked the motion idly with her finger, tracing said orbits in the air.

    “In perfect circles like that?” Thorin asked, smiling ever so slightly.

 “Nah. In ellipses.” She leaned her head all the way back against the bark, closing her eyes momentarily before craning her neck to her right, to Thorin, and opening her eyes briefly with a grin. Despite everything she might have thought before, this wasn’t really so bad. Teasing the normally proud and stubborn dwarf had its perks, she decided. “Kepler’s Law.” **  
**


	2. TH: Not All Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on imaginexhobbit's imagine "Imagine being in Rivendell and Kili sees you in a beautiful white dress after the elves washed and styled you up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think this is one of my first things I wrote for the blog? Eh, whatever. Second person, reader-insert-ish, and KilixReader. If this ain't your thing, go ahead and skip over it. Hopefully it'll only be this type of POV for a few of my older things and then it'll be back to third person

     Of all the trials you had suffered through with the Company, this was by far the worst. Getting chased down by orcs? Concerning, yes, but growing up with and training alongside the Princes had prepared you well for such; playing at fighting had been a favorite pastime even before any of you began training in earnest. Putting your trust in Gandalf's halfling? Worrisome, but perhaps he could prove himself. Knowing that the end of this journey may very well involve a slumbering dragon? Well, was that not what you signed up for?

     But alas, for of course the greatest attack on your pride should come from the elves. You had never in your young life dealt with them -- nor never had you wished to -- for the tales you had heard of them were quite enough. Nevertheless, here you were in Rivendell alongside your fellow dwarves, busy making fun of your hosts, either laughing out loud at someone's booming insults, or sniggering quietly, having made eye contact with Kili and sharing some silent joke only the two of you could understand.

     There was something there, surely, which had grown since the start of this journey. Since before it, really. You'd grown up a best friend to the young Princes, and that relationship with Fili had yet to ever change, the blonde dwarf treating you much he would his own sister. Kili...well...Kili was another story entirely. You had no idea when or how, but you had fallen in love with the handsome boy, his lighthearted persona, and keen insight for fun and mischief. Whether he thought of you in such a manner, or had come to discover your affections, you knew not. Could you dare to hope, regardless?

     Those were your last thoughts before you took a short leave of the Company, planning to wash up a bit, for you rarely had the chance on the road, lest there happened to be a river nearby and time to spare. Most of the dwarves didn't notice your departure, though you missed the covert glance of dark, warm eyes. After all, you had bigger problems to soon deal with. Nearly to the washrooms and barely out of sight of the Company, a group of elves good near ambushed you, pulling you along the rest of the way, apparently acting under some sort of compulsion to "help". Well, you didn't need help! You were perfectly fine! However, your unwanted escort didn't seem to agree, refusing to listen as you vehemently argued your point. Resorting to violence did cross your mind, but you managed to reluctantly dismiss it; you all needed somewhere to rest for a few hours at least, and the Lord Elrond would likely not look kindly upon spontaneous attacks on his people. Nor would Gandalf approve. So you swallowed your pride this time around.

     Only to find yourself choking on it a few hours later.

     These attendants had absolutely refused to leave, washing you, drying you, dressing you, forcing you into this white, lacy dress despite how you fought against it. Perhaps this new clothing was beautiful by elven standards, but you were a warrior! You could not fight in this! What good was it? Where had they taken your normal clothes?

     Nobody seemed keen on offering any real answers.

     Pressed up against the walls, you tried your best to sneak back to the Company without any of your companions spotting your return. No such luck, however. At precisely the wrong moment, Kili happened to turn, eyes widening at your approach before a bright grin came to instead dominate his features. You shoved a finger up to your lips, begging and pleading silently with him not to alert the others of your arrival. Good fortune appeared on your side when he heeded your instructions, slipping quietly away and beckoning you to join him.

     So you did. What other choice did you have?

     "Where in the _world_ did you get that?" he asked with a joking tone.

     "Blasted elves," you muttered crossly, "So pretentious. All I wanted was to wash up, and here they come shoving this on me!"

     "Well I, for one, think you look stunning."

     You snorted. "Don't make me laugh. You're just saying that."

     "No, I promise I'm not!" He laughed, the sound warm and familiar.

     "Yes, you are! I can't do anything in this! What's the use?!" You cried, no longer all too concerned about the Company noticing your presence. Not because you necessarily wanted them to see you dressed so, but because this argument with Kili had somehow become important.

     "The use? It highlights how beautiful you are." There was no hesitation in that answer.

     "I can't fight, I can hardly move, and... What did you say?" Your mind suddenly caught up to his last few words. Had he really...?

     "You heard me, amralime." He smiled, leaning in close, dark brown eyes warm and loving. "You're beautiful."

     And when his lips connected with yours, well, you couldn't help but consider: perhaps the dress was not all bad. Still, that didn't mean you weren't changing back the first second you got.


	3. TH: Goodbye, My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on imaginexhobbit's imagine "Imagine Fili telling you about the life he wished you would have had as you lay dying after protecting him during the Battle of Five Armies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, second person reader-insert-ish. Filixreader. But this one is really sad. I very near cried writing this one. And I'm proud of that. So even if you're not big on reader-insert stuff, if you're into sad stuff, please take a look?

There are gentle hands cradling your head when you awake. Everything is swimming ever so slowly into focus, pale blue of the sky dominating your entire vision. The ground was hard, but you felt warm – yet, not uncomfortably so – though it was difficult to perceive anything much at all. It all felt so... fuzzy.

The urgent sound of your own name caught your attention, the face of the golden-haired prince appearing before your eyes. Fear – no, panic – clouded his eyes, though none of it was for his own self, despite his battered appearance, dirt and blood caking on his skin.

“Fee?” you whispered, wincing as a sharp stab of red pain raced through your middle.

He jumped at your voice, immediately going on with trying to soothe you, promising that “you’ll be okay” and “I swear you’ll make it out alive” while crying for the rest of the Company to come and help. In all honesty, the words were so very comforting, but, even in this haze of confusion and pain, you could glean an idea of what had happened – and of what was to come. The world was sluggishly turning dimmer, the air just a slight bit colder. It was no far stretch to imagine the arrows which pierced your midsection, or the bright incarnadine which pooled around your prone form, staining the grounds of the battlefield.

“Hush,” you breathed carefully, compensating for the agony of your wounds, hoping all the while that your soft voice had not been lost to the winds. Your prince ceased in his rambling, gray-blue eyes wide and shining, shimmering, with unshed tears. “You worry too much, amralime. The end is come. I am glad for it to have been with you. Protecting you”

But he only shook his head vehemently, already mussed golden hair flying about his handsome features, now twisted in grief. “No, it should not have ended this way. I should have protected you. I should have.”

“Your duty is to your uncle. The choice…was mine.” The words became harder to form, breath coming shorter, lips fumbling as the breeze grew evermore frigid, despite Fili’s warmth. “My responsibility, not yours.”

The tears spilled now onto his cheeks, glistening tracks in the cold sun. “But I-I swore harm would not come to you. And I have failed.” You could feel his heavy, shaking breaths more than you heard them, the trembles racking his body. “What am I to do now? It was not supposed to end this way.”

“Live,” you pleaded, shivering as icy tendrils snaked into your limbs. “Live the life…you were meant to.”

He shook his head yet again, harder this time. “No, no. That life, it – it cannot be, not anymore. It was to – to have you in it. We – we…”

“What?” you asked, breath coming rapidly, brokenly, Death about to knock on your door.  Your prince turned silent, only the wet cries breaking the quiet. “Fee…tell me…please…”

The tears continued to fall, intermittent sobs shaking his body as he debated, for he could not even fathom imagining a life never meant to be, a life now proven impossible, now as your light faded from the world, extinguishing in his hands.  But you were his love, his One; there was nothing he would not do for you. He would not dare refuse this last request. “Uncle – he – he has reclaimed the Mountain. We – our home, it is returned. Thorin – he – he is King, just as he wished and the dragon sickness gone.” His voice grew faint. Was that him, or did the end draw ever nearer?

“And…and what of us?”

“We – we can finally live in peace together. Kili, Thorin, and – and the whole Company – they would be there. Mother – you – you would finally meet her and – and I know she would have loved you. Loved you and – and the family we would have had. We – we would have two children – one girl and one boy – and – and they would be best friends with Kili’s children, and Uncle he – he would spoil them as – as best he could.” He gripped harder the hand you did not recall him grabbing, shoulders hunched and tears falling like glittering crystals. “And they will grow up to be – to be strong and – and brave. But they – they would take after – after their mother in – in looks –“ He abruptly stopped once more with a shuddering breath. “Please, please, no. Do not leave me. Please.”

But the world had already blurred to gray. The time had come. “I love you, Fili.”

“No. No. Don’t. Please. Please, don’t do this.” The world faded, darker and darker. “Stay awake, just stay awake. Don’t – don’t go. Don’t leave. Please…don’t leave.”

And suddenly clear once more.

You watched from the outside, your golden prince hugging close your mortal remains, head shaking vehemently as his whispered pleas. “Come – come back. Come back to me. Please. I love you. I love you. Just…come back. Don’t – don’t you dare be gone. Please. Please…”

And you wanted nothing more than to do just that, live out that life which had had created. But you could naught but watch and wish a final, silent farewell as the winds carried you to the lands beyond.

_Goodbye, my Love._


	4. TH: Trust and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on imaginexhobbit's imagine “Imagine cutting your hair short and one of the Company being crestfallen because it’s too short for them to be able to braid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still second person reader-insert-ish and I'm sorry. Kilixreader this time. And, I dunno, I'm kinda meh on this one.
> 
> And I've realized the formatting isn't the same every time. Sorry about that if it's bugging anyone. Once I get through all my past stuff, everything should be formatted like the first chapter.

Running your fingers through your newly shortened hair, you could not help but admit, this was quite the change.  Every man, elf, and dwarf you had ever encountered had theirs hung past their shoulders, if not farther; yours ended now at the nape of your neck. But this was hardly something you felt worth mourning – it was only hair, after all. Besides, you were off to fight a dragon, and you were not about to endanger your own life due to something so trivially sentimental. And the Company would never allow you to live down such embarrassment as your head lighting near aflame, should the worst come to pass. Plus, you had soon learned, it proved far less to worry about, and a great deal lighter as well. Perhaps, even when this was all over, you might even keep it this way. You could find no reason as to why not.

The dwarves, too, did seem to agree with you, though that first night had been quite the adventure in seeing their reactions.  You’d done the deed in private, sneaking off to the cover of the trees, despite the difficulty of the near dark, for you dared not trust them not to interrupt you, a particular concern with the sharp blades so near your face.

Upon your return, you had expected the wide eyes, the few moments of silence. What you had not foreseen was the reaction to come. Almost in unison, the dwarves – and Bilbo – broke out of their stupor, clamoring around you, marveling at the new length, touching at the strands, many even going so far as to offer compliments of how they enjoyed this difference. Ori, head down, had shyly offered how good it looked. Fili had jokingly remarked how he had lost a possible advantage when the two of you practiced your fighting. Even Thorin had nodded his approval, recognizing the logic and strategy in your choice. In all, the night had been a marvelous one for merry-making.

Except, not entirely.

It had not gone unnoticed how removed one particular dwarf had been that evening. The ebullient and jovial nature you had come to associate with your best friend had seemed suddenly nonexistent. Kili had offered his own compliments as the others had, yet the gesture appeared…forced, somehow. The rest of the night, too, he’d hardly spoken a word to you outside the necessary, serving you stew and bidding you a good night.

Something was very off, and you knew not what.

But you would surrender your life before letting such matters remain unattended.

With the setting sun casting bright oranges and strakes of red across the sky, the Company slowed to rest for another night, and you pointedly made you way straight to the younger prince, grabbing him roughly by the arms and hauling him from earshot of your companions.

A measure of concern lit his dark eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“Funny,” you snorted, “I was about to ask you the same question.”

“What do you mean? There is nothing wrong.” He insisted, attempting to escape to the safety of the fireside, an act which you, for obvious reasons, did not allow.

“Stop lying. Your words do not fool me. Any being with eyes could see your distress.”

“What distress?” He put on that fake smile once ore, the type which reached nowhere near his eyes. “It’s like I said: there is nothing wrong. I am perfectly alright.”

For another few moments, you stared him in the eye, hoping to intimidate him into revealing the truth. You should have known it would not work, however, given that Durin stubbornness, and released him, eventually. "Alright, fine. Don’t tell me. But do not believe for a second that you have convinced me.” You pushed him back toward camp, letting the issue sleep for the time being.

So, when your friend caught the attention of his brother and took him aside, into the cover of the tree-line, you followed naturally, ducking behind the bushes, peering over the branches.

“Kili, what is it? You haven’t acted like this since you thought Mother would disown you for–“

“Stop it, Fee. This is no joke. You know what’s going on,” Kili interrupted, the teasing smile dropping from his brother’s face.

“Perhaps this may come as a surprise to you, but I, in fact do not know every thought which crosses your mind.” The elder crossed his arms. “Out with it, Kee. You’ve been acting out-of-sorts this past week. I would swear you’re turning into Uncle.”

“It’s about Y/N.”

The breath froze, cold, in your throat, as you lowered yourself fully to the ground, no longer able to view the confrontation.

“What about Y/N? I know you fancy her, but -” A pause. “The courtship braid?”

You could hear no response, but could guess at the nod of assent as your heart beat thicker in your ears, obscuring the rest of the conversation.

Fancying? Courtship braid? You could never have guessed! Was this truly what you wanted? Could you claim to refuse? Mahal, this was so confusing!

Some stretch of time later, you heard one pair of footsteps returning to camp, and you waited to hear the second before you dared move. Instead, however, there came a voice.

“Y/N? I know you’re here and in hiding.”

Slowly, you rose, careful to harbor no guilt in your gaze. “You knew?”

The golden prince smiled warmly, looking to the ground for but a moment. “Kili may have been overwhelmed by his thoughts, but you were not quite as stealthy as you might have believed.”

“Yet, you did not tell him?”

“I thought you, too, might be as interested as I in knowing what troubled him.”

“Thank you.”

Fili nodded his head, stepping closer to you. “You’re welcome. I only hope, however, that you realize you hold my brother’s heart in your hands.” He paused before heading himself back to the campsite. “And that you are the only one I trust to know what to do with it.”

You watched Fili’s retreating form, no more sure in your coming course of action than before. Fili trusted you, and for that you were relieved. Yet the question still remained: that trust – and Kili’s love – what were you to do with it?


	5. TH: In Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on imaginexhobbit's imagine "Imagine that Fili becomes King Under the Mountain, and you, being his consort, can see the gold sickness creeping up on him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second person, reader-insert-ish. Filixreader. This one was actually kinda interesting though, to be honest. Please don't hate me for saying that!

Things had changed. Since the battle on the front steps of Erebor, since Thorin’s death in protection of his homeland, since Fili’s subsequent coronation, all had gone suddenly wrong. And it was not an easy change to realize, not at first. But as your Love’s duties as King found him surveying the reorganization of the treasure rather than the rebuilding the city, you turned to aiding the men of Laketown – now of Dale – in an attempt to occupy yourself, though even the close friendship you had formed with the Bowman, Bard, came not close to the company you missed. Perhaps, some part of you hoped for the day when love overcame duty once more, expected it to arrive.

You should have known better than to hope.

“Fili?” you asked the cavernous room, stepping onto a landing overlooking the cursed riches below. No answer came, but from you height, you could make out a lone figure walking amidst the gold glittering in the dim firelight, the occasional mumbled word filling the halls.

“Fili?” you asked yet again, now descending the stairs, navigating through expanses of wealth. “My love?”

“Is it not beautiful, Y/N? All of this, and all ours.” He turned finally to you, blue eyes alight, but not as they had been before. Once, they had been alive with mischief – this now was something darker, something…manic.

Something you had all seen before.

“Well, not entirely, if you recall,” you started cautiously, carefully.

His eyes darkened further, defensively. “What do you mean?”

“The men of Dale – they rebuild their city and cannot do so on their own.”

“And why should we help them?”

“They, too, lay claim to the gold in these halls.”

“Claim? No, it is not theirs. What right have they?”

A crease furrowed your brow. “What right? Thorin –“

“Wanted this gold himself. He is the one who led this quest; he is the one who won back our home. I will not so easily give away what he had suffered his entire life for. This,” he gestured about, “is his legacy, and I cannot allow it to be tarnished as you so wish it to be.”

“Is that…truly…what you believe?”

“It is the truth.”

“Then you are mad, as Thorin was when he came upon this wretched treasure.”

He stepped threateningly closer. “Thorin was not mad, and nor am I. He simply came to understand that this treasure means far more than anyone else could ever imagine. Not a single coin may leave us – it is what he would have wanted.”

“Is it? Do you not remember your Uncle as he truly was? Do you not remember what Bilbo said? And honor and kindness – do they mean naught to you now?”

“Dare you to believe they do not? There is simply more that you cannot understand, that I never understood.”

“And why should I believe you? Because you are king?” you scoffed, before turning desperate, praying to Mahal your Fili might still live, might still hear you. “Please, Fee, we must help them.”

“They do not deserve our help.”

“We cannot keep this all to ourselves!”

“We can, and we must!”

“It is not our right to do so!”

“We have the only right!”

“The right to what, exactly? To greed?”

“To uphold our honor!”

“Then uphold your honor by remembering agreements made!”

“Why do you argue for this so?!” he changed direction suddenly, freezing the words in your throat. “Do you fancy them? Or that – that Bowman, perhaps?!”

“What?!” you spluttered, affronted. “You accuse me of --?!”

“Never are you here any longer, always spending time with _them_ ,” he spat the last word as though it left a bitter taste upon his tongue. “Do you love him now when you pledged yourself to me? Do you choose him over --?!”

“No! I do not love him, Fili! I love no man, except the one with whom I fell in love the first time, but – but,” you paused, the realization forming clearly as it had not before, “nor do I love you, not as you are now.”

The anger lifted itself from his features, and, for but a moment, you thought there to be a trace of his past self. Or, perhaps, you had simply imagined it. “What – what do you mean?”

“You have changed. You are no longer the dwarf I fell in love with, who first embarked on our quest. Now, I – I do not know who stands before me, but it is no person whom I may love as you wish me to.”

“Y/N,” he stepped closer, consolingly this time, as you backed away. “Y/N, please—“

“No, Fili, I am sorry. I cannot stay, not any longer.” Without another word, you tore away from him, hurrying up the stairs and through the winding labyrinth of halls, finally letting the hot and salty tears run down your cheeks. Many a time, you wanted to look back, to see _your_ Fili chasing after you, pulling you close with the confirmation that the dragon sickness had passed.

Not once did you succumb, for you knew such would not happen, no matter how you wished.

Near the front entrance stood Kili, whose countenance brightened at your approach, only to drop again to concern as he took in your state: eyes rimmed with red and cheeks streaked with dried tears. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

Offering no explanation, you pulled him into a tight hug,  which he instinctively returned. “I will miss you, Kili.”

“What do you… Y/N, please,” he pulled back only enough to look you in the eye, “tell me what is going on.”

“I cannot remain here. I—“

“What did Fili say? He did not banish you, did he?” I will talk to him, and he will change his mind, I promise.” He made to leave, but you caught him by the arm.

“No, Kili, it is my choice.”

“But – but you cannot!”

“I must. There is no other way.” Slowly you backed away, ever closer to the grand entry of the dwarven kingdom.

Reluctant acceptance fell onto the other’s face. “But where will you go?”

“Dale, perhaps. I do not know. Please, say goodbye to the Company for me.”

“…I will.”

“Thank you.” You turned, and continued, before stopping once more to speak without looking back. “Look after him for me, will you?”

“Of course.”

You nodded. “Goodbye, Kili.”

And you did what you never had earlier imagined: left Erebor behind, left your Love behind, left all of that good behind.

Perhaps, you might return one day, perhaps not.

Only time could tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this one will be having a part 2 and 3, given that I got a comment in the original submission of this on tumblr. Those will be kept in second person (I'm sorry!) for continuity and stuff. After that, hopefully I can get back to third person for everything again.


	6. TH: A Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on imaginexhobbit's "Imagine playing with the pugs in Laketown". That's not exactly the main point of this one, per se, but it's a part of it. Sequel to "In Sickness".

    Fili was having mixed feelings about Mirkwood, to be honest. Being captured by elves wasn’t exactly a highlight of his life, after all. Nor was getting searched and robbed of his weapons. or being stuffed into a cell. But then, he’d been stuck in a cell with you, of all people. Something had happened; what it was, he honestly didn’t know, but it had ultimately saw him ready to court you. After the Mountain was reclaimed, of course. And if Uncle agreed. Though the prince saw no good reason as to why not. And it did not seem likely he would listen if Thorin did truly disagree.

    So perhaps there was something good to come out of that cursed elven forest. Even if they were all drenched and deprived of weapons. And now stuck in the bargeman’s home, Kili turning ever paler by the moment, all due to the arrow which had pierced his leg.

    Beyond that, you had disappeared. Of the race of man, yourself, you had blended easily into the crowd, merely drawing your borrowed cloak a bit higher to obscure your identity. Thorin, of course, had taken advantage of that, more often than not sending  you to scout the town, though Fili himself believed you took that time more for your own enjoyment.

    A correct assumption, it would turn out, for as he peeked outside through the door, ready to call you back in before Thorin made his decision for the remainder of the journey, he came upon a rather curious sight. You, crouched down, hood fallen slightly back, with two tiny pugs scampering excitedly about your legs. He could see your profile, the way your lip curved up in delight, the sparkling glint in your eyes and the way they crinkled. And how your mouth would occasionally move, whispering soft coos of adoration at the tiny canines.

    Fili was entranced, to say the least. Your dry humor, your - at times - reckless courage in the face of death, it made Fili chuckle, remembering how threatened Kili had felt, feeling as though he had been replaced. Perhaps that had been what had drawn him to you in the first place, though Mirkwood had shown him also another side of you, one a bit more mature than Kili, one more tempered by years spent travelling alone. And this now, too, revealed yet another facet, one of wonder and suppressed innocence. The creatures jumped onto their hind legs, front paws resting upon your knees, curls of tails wagging in excitement, high yips escaping their jaws until you gently shushed them, an order to which they complied. Swiftly, you grabbed one around the middle, hoisting it into your lap as it tried in ain to lick at your face, eliciting a few soft giggles, the other pug simply scampering around a bit more in its attempt at more attention. Maintaining a hold on one dog, you reached out to the other, scratching its head, chine, and - as it flopped over lazily - stomach.

    Meanwhile, the dwarf leaned back against the doorframe contentedly. That nearly childlike light in your eyes - it was something he seldom saw. Bag End, perhaps, he had seen a glimpse of it then, but he had not known you at the time well enough to much distinguish it, a fact he now regretted. During the fireside pranks played largely by Kili - though he himself could not exactly claim complete innocence - to , he had seen flashes. yet, aside from that, he could recall little else, to his chagrin.

    Truly, he merely wished this moment might continue forever, the two of you frozen in time, no others existing to break the tranquil trance which had befallen you.

    Yet the world, nor the nature of the Quest, could permit such serenity for long, he did realize. Within moments, there stood another presence at Fili’s side. Regal, almost, though with a humble bearing, too.

    “You fancy her?” came the bargeman’s voice, low and rough as he, too, watched your movements. Quite perceptive, he seemed.

    “Aye,” Fili answered, equally soft, never letting his sight leave you, “quite a bit.”

    “You would be lucky to have her, if what i have seen and heard is correct. Brave and clever, both, yet still gentle when the time comes. She could have any man she wished, I am sure.” He looked down to Fili. “You are quite fortunate, and I hope you realize that, master dwarf.”

    “Trust me, I do.”

    At that point, she glanced over her shoulder, smiling lightly at the two, the dogs still pawing desperately at her, and Fili returned her sentiment.

    Apparently noticing the exchange, Bard subtly excused himself, though not without reminding Fili that “it might be in his best interest to return soon, both of you, lest we all face the wrath of Thorin Oakenshield.”

    Still smiling, now also from the bargeman’s wit, Fili risked stepping fully from the doorway, kneeling down at your side.

    “Adorable little things, aren’t they?”

    “They seem to think even more of you. As do I.”

    You rolled your eyes harmlessly at him. “Silly dwarf.”

    “Perhaps, but remember, you are the one who has done this to me. I was quite a reasonable dwarf before you came along.”  
    “And for that, I shall never apologize.” He looked down, lip curved upward. It was not as though he regretted that change much. To be your dwarf - nothing much seemed better.

    But it was then that the conversation turned. “Something is wrong. you and Bard - I saw the both of you.”

    “Nothing,” Fili reassured warmly, “It is only that Thorin is - “

    “Thorin? No, it is not about Thorin. Something of us, and there is trouble.” Fili felt his forehead crease at your words. Something was off, as if things were not meant to proceed this way.

    “Y/N?” he asked, thoroughly confused.

    “You must fix this, Fili. Only you can, and you must realize it. Please,” you were suddenly very near begging, your eyes softening and sending a stabbing pain through his heart. “Help me.”

    The pugs suddenly fled then. He had hardly the time to grant much thought to the oddness of the plea before the ground almost rumbled beneath him. Clouds  covered the sky, blotting out the stars, as the people of Laketown glanced around, hugging each other close with wide eyes. Both you and Fili met eyes for only a moment as you turned.

    “Azog,” Fili whispered under his breath, realizing the only reason for such panic, such dread. He looked back to you, ready to warn the Company of the coming threat.

    But you were not there.

    He spun in place, searching for any sign of you as pure fear seized his chest. Next he knew, he was hearing his own voice s it called out your name, attempting to rip through the cacophony of the crowd, the panic droning him, filling his chest, his lungs…

* * *

**  
**     “Y/N!” Fili screamed again, this time finding himself sat abruptly upright, sweat plastering strands of fair hair to his forehead, the mysterious sound of your voice echoing one last time in his head, a plea to “Find me, Fili, please. The orcs… they have me…” Breath came hard and fast after that, his chest heaving.

    Nothing but a dream, it was. Only a dream, and naught more that that. He turned, looking to his left for your comfort.

    The bed was empty.

    Memory returned like a wave. The Mountain, the gold, the sickness. Your leaving, a few months back.

    Your leaving.

    The pain hit only then. What had he done? Had he truly succumbed to the very sickness he swore he would never fall victim to? Had he truly pushed away all who meant anything to him? Had he truly allowed this to happen?

    He dropped his face into his hands, the warm and salty tears trickling through his fingers. Silly dwarf, you had often called him. But it was far more than that. Foolish, inconsiderate, irredeemable dwarf. Bard had been right, in the memory-turned-nightmare. Any to be with you was the luckiest man in all the lands, and he should have seen it, truly seen it. You had reciprocated his earlier love, and now he had gone and ruined it all.

    He did not deserve you. He needed you, now more than ever before, but he had no right to you, not any longer, not after what he had done.

    And it haunted his steps in the day following. He dared not enter the treasure room, subconsciously gravitating away from the door itself, as though it might sear his skin. As Balin led talks with councillors, Fili remained distanced, though not the same variety conjured by the sickness - one more sad and thoughtful, rather. At some point, he merely strode out, offering no rationale to the puzzled dwarfs left behind.

    Instead, he took to wandering the vast halls in stifling silence, the same thoughts replaying in his head. Unworth, foolish, selfish -

    “Fee?” His younger brother’s voice pierced through his thoughts, sending him spinning in that direction, the hesitation in brown eyes not at all lost on him. “Balin said you’d left, and…”

    “I’m fine, Kili,” he lied, far too easily for his liking.

     A crease formed between the younger dwarf’s eyebrow. “No, you’re not,” Kili insisted. “Ever since Uncle died, the gold-”

    “Kili,” the elder warned, the fear he felt over the reality of the gold sickness manifesting somehow into anger as he spoke.

    Something in the younger’s eyes hardened, solidifying Fili’s own defenses simultaneously. “You have changed. That treasure-”

    “I haven’t-!”

    “It has corrupted you! Just like it did Uncle!”

    “I am not corrupted!”

    “Oh, you are not?”

    “No!”

    “But the brother I remember would not have turned blindly from those in need!”

    “I am not-!”

    “Or forgotten about his Company, his family!”

    “You think I’ve forgotten-?!”

    “Or pushed away the people he loved!”

    “Are you talking about-?”

    “Yes, I am talking about Y/N! If you were yourself, you would not have banished her!”

    “I did not banish her! She chose to leave herself!”

    “Because of you! Don’t you see? She loved you and who you were! Not this-!”

    “Stop!”

    “This monster-!”

    “Stop!” Fili yelled more forcefully this time. “Do not speak to me of Y/N! Do not-” And something inside of him broke at that, the fight, the defiance, vanishing entirely.  He staggered backward, falling into a wall and sliding down its smooth face. He drooped his head, broken sobs choking out from his chest as the tension in the air suddenly diffused, Kili seeing now that his brother had returned.

    “Fee?” Kili dropped down, kneeling at his brother’s side.

    “I - I’m sorry, Kee,” Fili burst out. “I - I don’t know what is happening to me anymore. I don’t - I don’t know who I am, or - or what I am supposed to do, or-”

    “Fee,” Kili intoned more gently ow, laying a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “I do not blame you, not really. I was frustrated, yes, but you are my brother, and I have you back now. That is all I truly care.”

    “But everything I did to you, I - I shouldn’t have. How are you -?”

    “As I said, I am your brother. Whatever happens, we can fix it together,” Kili reassured, placing his hand behind his brother’s neck and laying their foreheads against the other’s. “I would never dare leave your side. No matter the circumstance.”

    “Are - are you certain, Kee?” Fili looked up without dislodging their position, blinking through tears.

    “I am,” the younger answered without hesitation. “An I am sure the Company would agree. Even Y/N.”

    “No, no,” Fili pulled away, leaning only against the wall again. “I am sure she would never have me again.”

    “But she loves you!”

    “Yet she said already that she did not.”

    Kili shook his head nonetheless. “She still loves you, Fili. Not the dragon sickness, but you. I saw her before she left, and I am certain she cares for you still. Please, Fee, trust me.”

    Fili searched his brother’s eyes, conflicted. “I miss her,” he admitted cautiously, yet another thought nagging at his mind.

    “As do I.” And at that, Fili could not have resisted his brother anything. The longing, the memory, was there in Kili’s expression, and any could see how he desperately missed you, wanted you back. You and he had become close friends, Kili’s curiosity taking little time to overcome his original resentment. Oftentimes, on particularly quiet nights, you had no problems planning - but never executing, so as to dodge the blame - especially elaborate pranks on the Company for your own amusement. But the halls had become quiet in recent days, and any fool could see how Kili had come to miss the past. And after all which had transpired, Fili could not deny such a pleasure to his brother.

    “I will go,” Fili agreed slowly, unable to still the crazed race of his heartbeat, “and hope she will take me back.”

    “You will?” Kili’s eyes lit up immediately. “She said she would be in Dale - we could find her now!”

    But Fili shook his head. “She is not there.”

    “But she said…”

    “She was there, for a time. My last visits, however, I have not seen here.”

    Kili’s face fell, and pain stabbed through Fili’s heart. “there must be some way....” the brothers fell silent for a time before Fili again spoke.

    “There was - last night, I had a dream. Y/N was in it, and,” Fili cringed at the reminder, the vision of you unusually small and scared, and all because of him, “and she said something to me. About orcs and capture…”

    “A message?”

    “Perhaps,” Fili answered, more wary than his brother. Both unsure of the truth of a dream, and uncertain of himself, whether he could bear to see her, could survive the guilt sure to run freely through his system at the sight of her once more.

    “what else might it be?” Kili grinned brightly. “And Bard- he might know which way she went! Go, Fili - you should!”

    “Kili, I cannot just leave at a moment’s notice,” Fili tried to stall, to give his mind one last reason to delay. But Kili was undeterred.

    “Of course you can! I will watch over the Kingdom while you are away.” At the doubtful look in his brother’s eye, he added, “I promise it will still be standing when you return, alright?”

    “But, Kili…”

    “This is too important. You need her, Fee; we all see that. You are her One, and she is yours. Do not forget that, nadad.”

    At that, Fili was stunned, always surprised at the wisdom which left Kili’s lips at times. “Thank you, Kili.”

    “Anything for you,” Kili smiled, before hauling his brother up. “Now, you had better go, before I drag you out of here myself.”

    Fili smiled slightly in return, the first time since before the Battle, and set out to make preparations. He did dread talking to the new King of Dale after all which had passed between them, but for you, he was willing. His gold, his throne, his life - you were worth far more than all of it combined.

    He would find you again; that was a promise.


	7. TH: Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on thereandbackagainimagines' "Imagine sleeping wrapped in Fili’s arms by a warm campfire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the last part to my last two chapters. I'll finish editing that later because I'm a lazy piece of trash. This one's third person with an OC (which I did actually name this time) and written as a friendship-y thing with Fili.

    The night wore on as she kept watch, laid out upon the cool stone of the high balcony, ear kept sharp for even the slightest sound outside the blockaded gates of Erebor. Only the radiance of a crackling fire radiated warmth on her lonely perch, though she dared not look into the dancing flames, finding them far too reminiscent of those of the dragon searing hot against her back. One of the youngest members of the Company, she had heard only of the tales told in Ered Luin, be it by her father, since passed, or from Thorin himself after she had come to befriend the Princes as mere dwarflings. Then, however, she had not understood - the three of them had played at slaying dragons and saving lost kingdoms, treating it as a game, and nothing more. Yet now, she had seen, she had understood, and the orange light of the dragon’s rage had branded itself against the back of her eyelids, the heat embedding in the skin of her cheeks and arms and back. This was no game, she had come to learn.

    Yet, there too was something which quite possibly frightened her even more. It was another tale, one not so commonly told, one of Thror - Thorin’s grandfather - and the curse laid upon the gold in these halls. It was a story seldom even whispered, rumor as it was. She herself had not heard until she had come of age, and Fili had told her as she inquired to his distressed state, complements of his own learning of the story from his uncle. Then, she had calmed his unease, sure neither he nor Thorin could ever fall victim to such sickness despite how the same diseased blood ran through their veins, as Fili had so poetically put it; she had promised him, jokingly at the time, that, should any ever fall to the illness, she would gladly knock reason back into them.

    But now, she had watched as the light of madness had grown in Thorin’s eyes, perpetually brightening by the hour. And she had done nothing, too terrified of the new dwarf standing before her, no longer he who had acted almost as her Ada for many years of her life. Something inside her had cracked at the sight, sending her into an early retreat under the guise of keeping guard. Orcs and Wargs and Goblins, she could handle; this, she could not.

    Footsteps began to ascend to her hiding place, and a small smile pulled at the corner of her lip. She knew those footfalls. Light, for a dwarf, yet not so much as his brother.

    “Fee,” she turned to greet the golden prince.

    He smiled ruefully. “I never have been able to catch you by surprise.”

    “It’s why I am the tracker, after all. Neither you nor Kili could ever quite understand the art.” She grinned a bit more brightly, or, what could pass as bright in this time of darkness. “You returned earlier this day. Is Kili alright?”

    “He is. As are Bard and his family, though not all in Laketown were so fortunate.” The dwarf glanced down at his feet, blame and guilt and pain clouding his normally clear blue irises.

    “Oh, Fee,” she sat up at once, “I’m so sorry.” He knelt down, and she wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling her face into his hair, perfectly content, as he returned the gesture in its entirety. The silence persisted for some time, each only glad to find the other alive, revelling in the warmth, before she spoke again, voice muzzled by his lion’s mane. “Fee?”

    “Hm?” he murmured.

    “I say this only because I know you, but...just...please, please, do not blame yourself for what happened. I know what you believe, but it was not your fault.”

    They pulled apart slightly, foreheads laid lightly together, strands of hair - blond and light brown - bridging the small gap with how they stuck together, intertwined. “I cannot agree with you, Ana. I was there. I could have helped them. Done something.”

    “I do not doubt that you did all in you power for them, but it - Smaug - was not under your control. Not all things can be.”

    “But you were not there. To see as the lake itself burned, men and women and children all helpless and scared for their lives, watching as we did nothing but flee, not once sparing a thought for them.”

    “I am sure there was little else you could have done for them, or you would have killed yourself trying, something none of us could have allowed, your brother least of all.”

    “Still, we could have tried something.”

    “You made the best of it that you could, and none of us would have fared any better.”

    He scoffed. “Yet we could not even keep the Bowman’s son safe in the boat. Went running off for his father instead.”

    “Bain? Is he alive?”

    “He is alright, but-”

    “Then it matters not, so long as he is well. But if you truly must blame someone, blame me instead. I could have stopped that beast before it ever reached Laketown. It is my fault far more than it is yours.”

    “Ilyana -”

    “Must your Durin stubbornness always prevail?” A weight lifted suddenly from the air at her bold remark, quiet though it was.

    “Evidently not when matched against your own,” he remarked dryly, both dwarves chuckling softly before separating enough to see each other in full.

    “So you are…” she trailed off, searching for the words. Fine? Alright? Better? None matched the situation at hand.

    “Aye,” he answered nonetheless, understanding the sentiment. “And you?”

    “I suppose,” she sighed, sitting back yet again.

    Concern flitted through his eyes, and he leaned forward in response. “Ana? Something more is bothering you. What is it?”

    “Nothing,” she insisted, “There is nothing wrong.”

    “Ana,” he chided gently, pausing and adding, “Is it Thorin?”

    She heaved a weighted breath. “You have seen him?”

    “I have. Wandering through the gold, muttering to himself.”

    “It is not him, Fee. Not the Thorin we remember. I,” she took a breath, “I haven’t the slightest idea what to do.”

    “Is that why you’ve come up here? To think? I’ve not seen you all day.”

    “And I’m sorry for that, but it’s quiet here. The others have not tried to bother me;  nor has Thorin included me in his searches. And the night air - it is...calming.” She knew, of course - she had felt - that the stone was their home, yet Erebor as it was now, was not so a home, far too stuffy and ripe with strained tension.

    “Yet you have allowed me up here?”

    “Of course I do, Fili.” She leaned forward, now taking his hands in hers. “You are my best friend. I would not dare keep such from you, no matter the circumstance. I swear by the Valar.” Her lip pulled up slightly, eyes still soft and genuine as he glanced down into his lap, the comfortable silence ringing true for a few long moments.

    “Do you remember,” he started out simply after a short while, without looking up, “in Ered Luin, when we were only children, fighting imaginary dragons?”

    The memory shone brightly again, despite the years separating it from the present. “When we would yell and scream and wave our wooden swords until our mothers forcibly dragged us apart.”

    “And do you remember when Thorin would walk in, and the three of us were terrified at first that he might scold us? Until he began to chase us around and join in our games, snatching us up and swinging us around?”

    “I also recall when we tired and he would take us into his lap to sleep.”

    “As he told us stories of Erebor as he remembered it.”

    “But how Kili squirmed! You would think him a newborn, not a young prince!”

    The two dwarves laughed together, warm and hearty sound echoing vividly across the cold, stone walls. For a long time, they reminisced so, planting seeds of hope, long after the sun had set and the moon risen, the world outside plunging into darkness. And still they talked, features lit by no more than the silvery glow of the moon high above, and by the glow of dying embers of the forgotten fire. Naught stopped them, until an untimely yawn consumed her, and worry entered his expression.

    “When was the last time you’ve slept?”

    “Not since before fighting Smaug. A day and a half, perhaps.”

    “You haven’t slept since then? Ana,” he began to rise, making to offer her his hand, but she pulled him back down.

    “Fee, please. Don’t worry. I’m alright, I promise.”

    “Ana, you need to sleep. Please, just come.”

    “No. I - I don’t want to go back down there, not now,” she tried to reason with him, though other thoughts, too, plagued her awareness.

    “Then sleep here. Please.”

    “Fee...I - I cannot,” she continued, letting the truth run past her lips, “It is just - I’m scared. Of what is happening, of what is to come. How am I to sleep?”

    “And do you believe I am not? Scared, I mean? Ana, I need you and Kili both well, should we want to restore Thorin to himself. So rest, even if only for a short while.”

    “And what of you?” she countered. “When last did you rest? No more recently than I, surely.”

    “Don’t worry for me.”

    “Impossible. If you are to force me, then nor are you exempt. We both sleep. Perhaps the Mountain can survive a single night without constant vigil.”

    “Given out fortune this entire journey, I find that unlikely, but I will reluctantly agree, if only for the terms of our agreement.”

    “Of course. You care far too much about the well-being of others, Fee.”

    “As if you do not,” he returned as she reached for one of the blankets she had stolen up for herself, throwing it, rolled tightly, at him, playfully annoyed as he caught it with ease.

    “Goodnight, Fee,” she wished with finality, offering no answer to his last remark, laying out the familiar, makeshift bed, lowering herself to it and shutting her eyes.

    Yet, sleep came not, flitting constantly from her reach, her mind racing, still equally as frantic and perfectly aware despite physical exhaustion. Wearily, she rolled to her other side, facing now the open air and sky, shifting often in attempts to find comfort and failing.

    Sleep came no closer, its herald warded off by the memories. Not of the good, but of the bad. The glint of madness in Thorin’s eye, his menacingly commanding tone to find the jewel, his angry outburst at her when she had tried to object. That look, as if he no longer remembered her in the slightest. As if her King, her best friend’s uncle, her family were gone, replaced by some copy, one too hard, too cold.

    She shifted again, this time hearing a rustle of movement behind her. Little did she react, perceiving a weight lowering down behind her.

    “No luck?”

    “Only so much as you, apparently.”

    Fili laughed lowly, his breath warm on her back, replacing the heat of the fire and blocking out the nightmare it resembled. Carefully, he arranged his arms around her shoulders, gently pulling the two of them closer together. Like in years past, as dwarflings in Ered Luin, before all of this had happened. She grasped one of his hands gratefully, for, even should deep sleep not arrive this night, the comfort, she would gladly accept. For some minutes, they lay in the silence, looking to the stars, this night becoming the only truly peaceful one since the one in Bag End, trouble once more kept seemingly at bay.

    And it seemed the similarities were not lost on the Prince either; in a moment, she felt the low rumbling at her back, the voice an undeniable relief, warm and deep, though nowhere near Thorin’s bass. Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes again, allowing the melody to whisk her to days past, days without trouble, days when all seemed alright in the world, Erebor reclaimed or not. Peaceful, happy times in mind, some of the cacophony of the more recent horrors quieted, making room for a slight rest as the song faded into the night, ever quieter.

_“Far over, the Misty Mountains cold…” **  
**_

  **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possibility this turns into a full story. I've got a few ideas running around, but...we'll see.


	8. TH: Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on two imagines from imaginexhobbit: "Imagine cuddling with Fili by the campfire with your head on his chest, listening to his heart" and "Imagine being held captive by orcs and Fili coming to your rescue.” Final part to "In Sickness" and "A Promise"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Final part! Oh, and I just now realized how terrible "A Promise" looks with grammar, typos, etc. I'm really, really sorry. I'll go back and fix that if I get the chance.

    You had not meant for this to happen, not at all. Then again, it was not as if anything had been going to plan as of late. Had things gone the way you had intended, you would be laying beside your beloved, cradled in his arms as the two of you whispered sweet jokes in each others’ ear, giggling until his brother might burst in, bearing urgent news which would soon prove none too urgent. Not rotting away in some orc’s horde, trapped in a crudely barred cave, stripped of all weapons. 

    It was hard to admit, but for a time, you had considered surrendering to death, fully and truly giving in. After all, what was left? You had banished yourself from Erebor, your One apparently gone past your reach, descended into the same madness which had taken his Uncle only shortly before. Dale, too, was not home - Bard had been kind enough, more than he needed to be, and his children had taken to you as well, but the proximity to the Dwarven kingdom proved a constant reminder, particularly during certain diplomatic exchanges. Your king would pass through, both of you awkwardly hiding your eyes from the other. Leaving had been your only choice, honestly.

    Taking to travelling again, consenting to an adventurous instinct once more, you had wandered. At least, until a random night of ambush which found you awakening in a cell. The immediate confusion passing, and acceptance settling in, you began to hope for some miracle, as if calling out in your mind might somehow bring about a solution. However, such feeble attempts lasted not long. Survival kicked in somehow, and your abundant free time found you considering the possibilities.

    This was of no elven quality, after all - the bars might break if given the proper tools, something denied to you. Or, perhaps causing enough ruckus to attract attention, bring one beast close enough to land a hard hit at its face through the bars, search it in hopes of a key. Except that you had already tried that twice, and without luck; you perhaps had only one more chance before your sentries wisened up. The walls and floors, too, you had searched for the possibility of finding anything of even marginal usefulness.

    No such luck.

    So it appeared a waiting game. Watching, spying any opportunity and taking it. The possibilities might come knocking at any time, after all.

    Fingering idly the stone hanging at your neck, letting your mind be tickled by the nostalgia of memory, there came suddenly a great crashing, yells and cries echoing across the walls. Orcish wails soon followed, trailed by more voices. Voices you recognized.

    You could not help the hope filling your chest.

    The sentry once guarding your cell had disappeared at some indiscriminate time, and was yet to return; rather a small group of dwarves - a very familiar group - rounded the corner to pass in front of your eyes, a golden head of hair among them.

    “Fili!” you yelled, not even realizing the instinctual nature of your cry.

    Said dwarf paused, turning incredulously in your direction, blue eyes wide. “Y/N?” he almost whispered, nearing the bars. “I - I am so sorry. I never meant -”

    “Not now,” you interrupted tersely, steeling your emotions, unwilling to show them to the dwarf before you, not after the events which had transpired. “Just get me out of here.”

    “But -”

    “Fili, I would much prefer not being stuck in a cell any longer than necessary.”

    At that, he conceded, stepping back to grasp a fallen axe, swinging it against the door until the metal lock gave way, and you bolted out, finding a sword for yourself and preparing to dart off to join the battle surely taking place deeper within.

    “Y/N, wait!” you heard him yell after you, though you chose not to mind his words.

    You heard the battle before seeing it, joining smoothly into the fray, sore limbs loosening with the familiarity of fighting. Unsurprisingly, the blonde dwarf was soon at your side, twin falchions blazing in the stale light.

    “Are you expecting thanks? Because I should inform you,  I could have escaped myself.”

    “I have no doubt. How long might that have taken?”

    “Nevermind that. I do not need you, just as you had made it clear you do not need me.”

    “But that’s where you are wrong! I do need you! I -” He left his enemy slain on the ground before him and turned to you, a change you could only perceive with the changed volume of his voice. You were not about to turn around now; there were orcs to deal with! Not as though that deterred him. “I am sorry for what happened.”

    “Except sorry does not erase the past, does it? Say whatever you like, but it will not make me forget.”

    “Y/N, I never meant -” his words were cut off by a short cry of shock, of pain.

    “Fili?!” you yelled, glancing over your shoulder quickly, finding the golden prince fighting once more, no longer distracting himself with meaningless talk. A mere scratch which had reminded him where they were at the current moment, most likely.

    You could not help but smirk slightly. Silly dwarf.

* * *

    By the battle’s end, you automatically shadowed Fili from the orcish lair, honestly having nowhere else to go, but also out of habit. After all, how many countless nights had there been with the Company when the two of you would set up camp at each others’ side, chatting and laughing in the darkness of night? From the present, that seemed now an age ago, when Thorin had still lived and thoughts of cursed gold had never once crossed through your mind.

    Oh, how things did change.

    Back then, you had thought nothing could have forced you to leave the Mountain; now, you were only just escaping the prison which had been your latest residence. Then, you and Fili both had thought your love unbreakable; now, you still were not sure, even if your few glances his way did not betray any signs of the sickness.

    Yet, at the same time, it was a comfort to know some things had not changed.

    “Bard!” you cried out, spotting the dark-haired Lord of Dale while passing near the campsite of his men, some of whom you vaguely recalled seeing in the blur of the battle. 

    The archer whipped around, a smile lighting his features as you hurried up to embrace him, more than aware of the nervous energy emanating from the dwarf left behind you. Expected, you could only assume, but you were not about to dwell on that fact for the time being.

    “Y/N!” your friend laughed, squeezing you back tightly until you both released the other. “How I’ve missed you!”

    “And I you!”

    “And you’re alright? Unhurt?”

    “Perhaps a bit worse for wear, but nothing serious.” You shrugged nonchalantly. “But what of you? How have you been?”

    “Alright. Worried on your behalf. The children have missed you, though. Tilda cannot stop asking if you will come back. Bain very near followed me here to ensure you were alive.”

    “I’m so terribly sorry. I never did want to leave them, but…” you trailed off as a new thought occurred. Something Bard had said. “Bain knew you were coming for me? How? How did  you  know where I was?” At first, you had not questioned the arrival, but now you could not help but wonder. It was not chance, after all, which brought both the King of Erebor and Lord of Dale to the prison of their mutual friend, was it?

    “Fili,” Bard answered evenly, sending you looking over your shoulder at the blonde dwarf.

    “Fili? But how? I never told him I was leaving Dale, much less that I had been captured.”

    “I have no answer to that question.” Bard shrugged subtly. “Only he can tell you.”

    Except that to do so would require talking and trust, neither of which seemed in tremendous supply. The bowman seemed to sense your apprehension, speaking again, more quietly this time.

    “I truly think you should.”

    “But you do not know what has happened to him. All that gold…” The sight of the golden glint of madness in his eyes flashed before you yet again.

    “No, I do not, that is true. But I saw as he came to me before taking this journey. Practically begged for me to follow this whim that you might be in danger. He would not let me say no - even offered all the gold in Erebor.”

    “He - he did?”

    “Aye, to the last coin.” He paused, waiting for a response which never did come. With a sigh, he placed a hand upon your shoulder. “Y/N, he deserves a second chance.”

    “Alright, for you, I will agree.”

    He smiled, pulling you into a hug  and whispering into your ear, “I’m sure it is for more than only me.” You began to sputter, Bard grinning and slipping away, leaving you to attempt to compose yourself.

    No. No, no, no. This was all absurd! After everything that’d happened, wasn’t it?

    You steadied yourself, turning back to Fili, arranging your expression, careful not to betray your thoughts.

    “Y/N?” the inquired nonetheless, as you cursed his sensitivity to your feelings, all the result of a now bitter-sweet courtship. “Is everything -”

    “Yes,” you answered, tersely. “Your camp, it was this way?”

    The silent travel ensued again, Fili not-so-covertly sneaking glances your way, and you forcibly looking away in response. Neither of you knew exactly what to say, nor how to melt the ice which had arisen between you.

    Yet, you also knew the silence could not continue forever either, Bard’s words coming back, a haunting spectre.

    Sitting around the campfire in the darkness, you chanced speaking first, saying without turning, “Thank you.”

    Fili, however, spun at that, fixing you with that gray-blue gaze. “You’re welcome.”

    A few seconds of uncomfortable silence came to pass once more.

    “Bard said,” you restarted slowly, catching the way the dwarf flinched ever so slightly at the name, “he said you knew something had happened to me.” Here, you dared look at him. “How?”

    “There was...a dream. And it began wonderfully, but then you - you said you needed help…”

    “A message? From a dream? And you believed it?” you inquired softly.

    “I dared not ignore it. And it was the same day Kili knocked some sense into me. I could only think it was a sign, and I realized I had been wrong. You and Kili were right all along.”

    You furrowed your eyebrows. “Kili - where is he?” For you truly did wonder. All this time and you had yet to see the younger of the princes. Strange, it seemed.

    But Fili chuckled lightly. “Back in Erebor. He insisted I leave him to watch over the Mountain so I could come here.”

    “Kili? Why, I should be surprised if our home is still intact when he is through,” you teased, feeling the naturalness, the ease, return of its own accord.

    And the dwarf’s eyes lit up with unrestrained hope. “ Our home? Does this mean…?”

    “I...Fili,” you stumbled, only now realizing how easily the words had slipped out.

    “Please, Y/N. I’m sorry for everything. I hadn’t meant -”

    “You meant none of that? Is that what you’ve been meaning to say? You promised you would not fall victim to the sickness,” you argued, though your words held little venom.

    “I know, but, I never realized,” he took a breath, and restarted. “I thought I was doing right for everyone. For Thorin. I could not control it. Nothing made me question myself until you left, but I couldn’t do anything against it.”

    “But you could have tried.”

    “I know that now. I should have seen it, should have done something. And I am a fool for not. Truly, I do not deserve you, and you deserve far better than me.”

    You paused, then allowed a slight smirk onto your features. “Well, at the very least, I cannot argue that you are, indeed, a fool.”

    “Aye,” he laughed a bit as well, then looked you hopefully in the eye. “So will you come back? Please, I swear I will make it up to you ten-fold.”

    “I...I do not know yet, Fili. Part of me wants to, and longs to trust you again, but,” here you yawned suddenly, weeks in that prison taking their toll, “it is hard.”

    The dwarf’s eyes turned soft at that, filled with worry. “Have you slept?”

    “Only sporadically, and never well. But I will be fine. Do not fret -”

    “Y/N, please. You have been held captive. You deserve sleep.”

    “Fili…”

    “Please,” he near begged, as your eyelids betrayed you, beginning to feel heavy.

    “Alright, fine.” You laid yourself out, facing comfortably close to the campfire, Fili laying down at your back. And almost instinctively you rested your head nearest to his chest, cuddling close to him, reminiscent of every night with the Company, out on the road, under the stars, before everything had gone wrong. Back when you and Fili were only just discovering each other and you would spend the night falling asleep to the lullaby of his heartbeat.

    And no different was it now, in that sense. Strong and steady beneath his layers of clothes. Exactly as it had been before.

    Fili’s heart. Undoubtedly your Fili. Perfect and unchanged, despite it all. The one thing which would remain, no matter the circumstance.

    Perhaps there was hope after all.


	9. TH: Of Pranks and Princes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on imaginexhobbit's "Imagine that first kiss".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, fluffy, Fili-centric. What more do you want?

    “So, what is it like?”

    “Hm? What is what like?”

    “Being a prince, being royalty!” You turned to the right, questioning the golden prince as his brother plopped down at your other side. “Surely it must be fun!”

    “Fun?” He glanced up through his lashes and rose his eyebrows.

    “Yes!”

    “Is that what you truly believe?”

    “How could I believe anything else? Particularly when you aren’t _telling_ me.”

    “Perhaps if you would give me time to speak without interrupting.” You opened your lips and promptly closed them again, to which he smirked playfully before continuing. “But it is not much in the way of special, really.”

    “No, surely you joke,” you asserted, though he only shrugged, to your dismay. “But, you are the Heirs of Durin -”

    “And until we reclaim Erebor, that means little,” he responded with words which would have sounded bitter in Thorin’s voice, though he appeared merely a tad wishful. “We worked in the forges. Like any other dwarf.”

    You deflated a bit, having expected tales of magnificence and glamour. “So, nothing at all?”

    “Not much,” he paused, “except for the dinners.”

    “Dinners?” You felt yourself visibly brighten at the opportunity. “What dinners?”

    Fili grinned at your renewed interest. “Fancy events; Mother and Uncle got it somehow in their heads that Kili and I find someone to court as soon as possible.”

    “And...has this worked?” you probed curiously, “Did you find her? Your future Princess of Erebor?”

    He fixed you with a particular look. “Not quite yet.”

    Suddenly, you then felt a strong force at your back, sending you toppling rather helplessly into Fili. And, somehow, with your flailing to stay upright coupled with his confused movements, torn between catching you or getting out of your way entirely, your lips found themselves clumsily colliding. For a moment, you froze there in stunned silence. Then, both of you jumped back in equal shock.

    Distantly, you made out the, in your opinion, over-excited cheers of the Company, just a short ways away, but you did not heed them. Instead, you and Fili locked gazes across the gap, communicating silently.

     _Well, that was…_

_Unexpected?_

_Certainly. But it was not...bad, either._

_Agreed. Perhaps we might continue this later?_

_I would have no complaints._

_Nor would I._

_Excellent._

_But, first…_

    Simultaneously, both of you shifted your sights to the dwarf seated still behind you.

    The mischief in the younger’s eyes turned suddenly to fear, and he bolted immediately for the safety of the trees.

    But you were both on your feet, sprinting after him, just as quickly.

    “Kili!”

    “Get back here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, that little italicized part can kinda be read either way. Hence no speaker tags. Lazy writer out.


	10. TH: It's Not Called Embarrassment (Because Mortification is More Accurate)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on an anon prompt from tumblr: "Can you maybe write something like Integration, Relativity, and Kepler's Law? But could it be were the reader is telling the Company more about technology, music, movies, etc. instead of math and science?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this has been sitting on my list forever and I'm really sorry that I suck at being semi-timely-ish about my writing. But this was kinda fun and totally random (and don't mind the weirdness of the title - I don't know where it came from but I'm keeping it). Oh, and I added TV references instead of music since I don't honestly keep up with much in the music industry anyway. Whoops.
> 
> Last thing: no pairing this time. I didn't know what to do on that, so I just went with nothing explicitly stated. Infer what you wish though :)

You didn’t quite recall ever stuffing this into your pocket. But... you weren’t exactly complaining either. After all, for all the weird shit that’d gone down, ogling at pictures of attractive men was never too much of a problem. Well, maybe it was when it came down to time management and not staying up past midnight to finish of procrastinated-on work, but emotionally? It was all good on that front.

Really, you didn’t know how you’d gotten here at all. You’d seen Middle Earth in the movies and all, but suddenly falling face first into the land had never really been on your agenda for the day. Falling face first in front of Thorin Oakenshield and Company had  _ definitely _ not been on there. Honestly, you didn’t know why Thorin had agreed to keep you around at all; you had a feeling Bilbo and Gandalf were to thank for that one, the hobbit being quite a bit more kind-hearted than the dwarf, and the wizard intrigued by your circumstances. Apparently people from your world getting transported (or something) into fictional worlds wasn’t a common occurrence.

Now  _ that _ was oh-so-comforting.

The little things were nice, though, the little reminders of your world. Because for as beautiful as Middle Earth was, home sounded nice, too. Movies and technology and the TV shows you’d be ridiculously far behind on. What was happening on that show anyway? What was going on with Axl and Gaia? Would they make it past what’d happened? And what about Ty and Dawn? Would they ever get together? And what about those hallucinations? Would that -?

“Y/N?” Your gaze shot up suddenly, finding Kili appeared above you. How the hell had you missed that? 

“Kili!” you exclaimed, meeting his eyes only briefly before scanning the area behind him. “What is it? Is Thorin finally kicking me out? I know he’s wanted to leave me to the wolves since I first got here…”

“Nah, don’t worry about that. Mister Gandalf and Bilbo have kept him well behaved. I wouldn’t worry.” He smiled easily, sucking the tension from the air.

“Oh, good. I wouldn’t survive a night out here on my own. Now that wouldn’t be fun.” You couldn’t help but grin back up at him. “So then, what is it?”

“Nothing, I promise. I saw you sitting here alone and thought I might come check on you.”

“Well then,” you scooted over, patting the ground next to your spot leaned against a tree, “sit.”

The dwarf complied, plopping down at your side and risking a glance at the paper in your hands. “What’s that?”

Your heart stopped. Shit.

“Hey, is that -? That looks like Fili!”

Dammit.

“Fee! You have to see this!”

Oh no. When Kili’d first sauntered over, you’d just been glad you hadn’t happened on a picture of Ross Poldark or, god-forbid, John Thornton. 

Now, it apparently didn’t matter.

The older of the princes appeared in your line of sight, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into the ground. Where was Gandalf when you needed him?

“Kili? Y/N? Is everything alright?”

No. Not at all. Not. At. All.

“Of course! Look at this! Y/N, show him!”

And so, hanging your head, you - very reluctantly - turned around the piece of paper in your hand, letting him see the picture printed on the front.

Dean O’Gorman. As Anders Johnson. Shit.

Unsurprisingly, Kili was the one to break the silence. “Do you see that? He looks like you!”

“He does,” Fili mused, crouching in front of you. “Where did you get this?”

“Internet. Then printer.” You literally hung your head, hiding your face as best you could. Why couldn’t you just pop back to your world and forever avoid this embarrassment? Why, why, why?

“What and then what?”

“The…” and you trailed off. The words had just come without you meaning to say them. After all, it wasn’t everyday you met people who didn’t know what computers and modern technology were. Yeah, you knew not everyone had them, but still. “Umm, it’s kinda a really long story…” You scratched the back of your neck because really, what were you supposed to do in this type of situation?

“We’ve got the rest of the night before Uncle decides it’s time to take off again. I don’t think either of us would mind you telling us about your world, now that you’ve gotten to see ours.”

* * *

Hours had passed, and now you had a semi-circle of attentive dwarves (and hobbit and wizard) crowded at your feet, listening with rapt attention as you ran your mouth off about any and everything because  _ dammit you shouldn’t have taken that offer of a drink Bofur gave you a couple minutes ago there was literally no shutting you up now. _

“So, you guys here really, really need to work on your transportation and stuff. Like, back home, we’ve got these cars that drive themselves - you just get in and  _ zoom _ ! There you go! It gets you there all by itself.”

“And that’s because you’re making these...robots?...better at functioning on their own?” Fili piped up.

“Yes! Ten points to Hufflepuff!” Hmm, had you explained that reference yet? Or was Harry Potter still on the to-do list?

Not that it mattered in the end. “And you’re all sure this is wise?” Balin spoke up from...somewhere.

“Yeah, or people generally think so. I mean, Google - the company that made these cars - is like a giant monster, but a benevolent one. Disney’s the one you gotta look out for. ‘Cause, I mean, they’ve literally bought every single movie company in the business and then they use it to tear your heart out.”

“And Disney is…?” You didn’t even know where the question was coming from before you responded to it. This was all way too much fun! Why was it you had even wanted to go back at all?

“Studio. They make movies. Like, moving pictures that tell a story.”

“Like that picture you had of that man who looks like Fili!” That was definitely Kili. Nevermind you could only tell because he was sitting right in front of you. That wasn’t relevant. For reasons.

“Umm, almost, my friend. That’s what we folks like to call TV. Kinda like little mini movies but they come on every week. And it’s all part of one big storyline. Which is great ‘cause you get to see all these cute actors every week.” You immediately clapped a hand over your mouth. Wait! No! You hadn’t meant to say that! 

Uh oh.

“And,” that was definitely Fili, drawing the syllable out long in question, “so you’re saying-”

“That the internet’s this really great place and people go on there all the time to look at pictures and gush and - I mean I’m not one of those people because why would I be? The internet’s just cool ‘cause you can read a whole bunch of stuff and look up information since it’s all there or talk to people from all around the world and-” You looked up, still just as mortified as you had been half a minute ago. The rambling clearly hadn’t helped. 

So you ran instead.

Ignoring the calls of the dwarves, you dashed into cover of the bushes, soon dropping to the ground behind a tree trunk, pulling your knees to your chest and hiding your face, trying to will the heat in your cheeks away. What had you done what had you done  _ what had you done _ ? That was literally the worst thing to have ever happened to you and why had you let it happen and all you wanted was for Gandalf to spell you back home right now because _ why? _ What did you do to deserve all that?

* * *

Some time passed - you didn’t really know how long, because whatever that drink was had started to really take effect, and you could feel sleep pulling at your senses. Everything had just started to feel...fuzzy. At least you could be glad for that aspect of whatever the drink was - it would (hopefully) make you forget this day had ever happened. That’s all you could ask for. It really was. And the drowsiness was actually pretty great.

Until you could just make out the footsteps approaching from the distance, stopping at your side, their voices perfectly audible, even if you were just gone past the threshold of too-tired-to-answer but still-awake-enough-to-hear.

“You think we should ask her in the morning who she thinks is more attractive?”

“Kili!”


	11. LOTR: Righteous Defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off imaginexhobbit's imagine "Imagine defending Faramir when Denethor says he would rather he died instead of Boromir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another second person, reader-insert-ish one, but basically my rant against Denethor. Because I literally freaking hate him. And Faramir deserves love. Oh, and by the way, this and the story before didn't originally have titles. Hence the crap ones I made up on the spot.

                “You wish now that our places had been exchanged, that I had died and Boromir had lived.” Gondor’s young Captain of the Guard spoke hollowly, not a single doubt in his voice. Submitting, trying to please his father, as you had heard done in vain far too often.

                “Yes, I wish that.”

                “No.” You stepped forward suddenly, surprising all present, including even yourself. After all, for many moons, you had been little more than a lowly servant to the Citadel of Minas Tirith, taking leave of your family in search of a way to better support them, and in a place you had once believed to be glamorous in some way. Working in the very center of the great country of men had sounded like a dream. But you had been deceived. This place – it was no dream; it was a nightmare.

                The Lord Denethor turned to you, those cold, dark eyes piercing your very soul, chilling you to the bone. You nearly shied away, but something kept you rooted to the spot, firm in your decision to speak. And that something – or, rather, someone – stood just before you, gray-blue eyes just barely widened in shock. “What was that?” the Steward asked, though the words sounded more a command.

                “I said no,” you recapitulated, hopefully giving off an air of confidence which you most certainly did not feel.

                “You dare defy me?” The fury in his voice grew in intensity, fully directed now at you. Most sane people would have backed down by now, you could only assume. Perhaps you were not most people. Or simply just insane.

               “I – I – yes?” It comes out sounding more a question, but abrupt images filled your mind. Of going about the Citadel. Of hearing the Steward constantly praise the exploits of his oldest son, of hearing that same voice only compare the younger to the elder, of bearing silent witness to such unfounded criticism. And something about that filled you with just a bit more courage. “Yes, I do,” you repeated, the more firmly, more sure, this time.

                “And you believe your opinion to mean something in matters which do not concern you?” he mocked.

                “Perhaps it doesn’t; perhaps it does not matter my opinion. But what matters is your son. Have you even a care for him? He does his best to please you, but for what? Can you see that? Can you not see past your blind affection for your other son? Do you care so little so as to wish death upon the living? As if that might bring the dead back to life? Does family mean nothing at all to you? So little that you refuse to recognize the man your son has become? What father treats his family so?’

                Stunned silence fell, the accusatory words hanging dangerously in the air. Had you really just said that? Had those words really slipped past your lips, your pent up opinions suddenly bursting forth? And all to your Steward?

                Was it supposed to feel so good? So empowering? Were you wrong in feeling so?

                Alas, you were given no time to decide, for the experience could not last.

                “Is that truly what you believe?” You sensed him treading more carefully in the wake of your denunciation, though there was not even the slightest sign of remorse.

                “Yes, my lord.”

                “Then why is it you take this position here, to serve me, if you profess to hate me so?” His voice is sickeningly sweet, too innocent. The worst seemed yet to come, but you could not seem to conceive a believable lie on the spot.

                “It is for my family, to support them.”

                “Ah, the plight of the poor.” He clucked his tongue. “Yet, they have never felt disappointed in their child, have they?”

                You gulped at that, finding it suddenly harder to find breath. Any could see where this was headed. “No, but that is no reason –“

                “Then they shall have the chance to experience their child’s failure.” He stepped nearer to you, close enough you could smell his foul breath on your cheeks. “You are to no longer serve in this Citadel so long as I draw breath. Perhaps you too shall now understand disappointment.”

                You tried to argue, but little more than garbled sound left your lips as he dismissed you with a hand. Most of the fight worn out, and you turned away dejectedly, headed toward the grand doors. Why had you gone and run your mouth so? Why? Why?  It had seemed so noble, but now? How were you to help your family? And where were you to go? You could not bear returning to them so shamefully, just another burden for them to care for. Yet, what other choice was there?

                The cool breeze blew through your hair, and the pale sun warmed your cheeks when you heard a voice calling out to you. On instinct, you looked to the sound, finding Faramir following you out of the throne room. “My lord,” you greeted him with your usual level of respect, lowering your head, though he needed not know how you tried to hide a flush of embarrassment. “Is everything alright?”

                “Yes, but I simply wished to thank you.”

                Thanks? As a servant you rarely ever received thanks for your actions, and never so genuine. “There is no need.”

                “I believe there is.” His response prompted you to glance back up. “What you said to my father – it was extraordinarily brave. Few have ever spoken to him as such.”

                “I only did what I thought right.”

                “And I cannot properly express my gratitude.” He reached down, grasping one of your hands and pressing his lips to its back.

                Not a phrase, not a word, came to mind.

                Fortunately, his mind appeared nowhere near as muddled. “Where were you off to?”

                “I…well…your father…” you stumbled over the words, fighting to get your brain back in working order.

                “Worry not about him. Stay here. Please. I cannot let you suffer for your courage.”

                “But…” Your family – you could not let them down!

                “I promise I will see to it they are protected and provided for.” He locked gazes with you, the slight curve of his lip warm and comforting, more than enough to win your trust. You could not help the timid smile from reaching your lips as well. “It is the least I could do.”

               

 


	12. SH: I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on thefandomimagine's “Imagine calling to talk to James Moriarty, you’re fighting to keep your voice level when they answer. “Hello? Hey, what’s up?” You close your eyes and tell them nothing even though you’re bleeding out in an alley with no change anyone can help. “Nothing, I just love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And back to sad again! Pre-Reichenbach Fall, by the way.

    It hurt. Dear god, it hurt so badly. Each movement, each breath, it sent sharp stabs of pain across her middle, the agony racing out to the rest of her body. The chill London night grew ever colder, each puff of whispering breeze sending frigid tingles across her skin, shivers down her spine. The coldness, it was everywhere - everywhere except her stomach, where she pulled her hand from, finding it warm and sticky, surely the same color as the puddle forming around her, filled with the life blood flowing from the gaping hole in her abdomen.

    With a shaking hand, she reached for her back pocket, clenching her teeth through the pain, ignoring the salty tears running rivulets down her cheeks as she pulled the phone from its trap.

    The device, slippery with coppery blood, shook in her grip as she fumbled for the one number that mattered.

    Richard Brooks.

    Jim Moriarty.

    She’d changed the name in her contact list, in order to keep hidden their relationship with each other. Not that it mattered now. Sherlock, Watson, someone - they’d found her. Left her bleeding out in the dark area between the two abandoned school houses. The place Jim and Sherlock had first started their game.

    So very poetic. She hoped Jim might see it as such, too, when they found her body. He always did like the beauty of those sorts of things. Besides, it was too late now to hope for rescue. Only to tie up loose ends.

    Ignoring the pain as best as possible, she held the phone close to her ear, trying to will it to stop its shaking.

    One ring. That was all it had ever taken with him.

    “Hello? Hey, what’s up?”

    She squeezed her eyes shut, letting tears mingle with crimson blood. That voice, tenor and playful, with that ever so slight hint of an Irish lilt. To think, never again would she be blessed to hear it in this mortal plane. The pain flared up again, and it took all her strength not to sob into the microphone.

    He went on. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? I would so hate for you to have to cancel.”

    She steadied her voice, keeping it level, a trick Jim himself had taught her- a precaution, he’d said. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

    “Good,” she could hear the grin in his voice, “because do I have something special planned for you.”

    A slight laugh escaped her lips, in spite of everything. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” But even as she spoke...were the stars growing dimmer, his voice fainter? Was that how people knew the end drew near?

    Apparently, he too had picked up on something being amiss. “Is everything alright? Is that ex of yours bothering you again, because I can have him taken care of.”

    “No, it’s nothing,” she resettled her voice, “It’s just - I love you.”

    “Aw, I love you, too, babe,” he seemed to resume his normal optimism. “So, tomorrow night, eight on the dot?”

    “I’ll be there.”

    “Perfect. Then I will see you later.”

    “G’bye,” she finished, trying to hide how her words slurred. The line went dead, and she let the phone topple from her numb grip to the dirt as her mind began to wander, confused by the blurred world.

    She wasn’t going to make their date. She wasn’t going to be there. She wasn’t going to talk to him later.

    She’d lied well enough to fool Jim Moriarty.

    Her mind continued to slip, and settled on two words.

_I’m sorry._


	13. MCU: Thank You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on TheFandomImagine's "Imagine falling asleep with your head on Pietro's chest".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, I interpreted this one very, very loosely. As in, it's probably meant to be romantic but I can't get away from writing sad. Cause I suck. Oh, and it's not my most polished work either, I'm sorry. I found it half done in a journal and decided to finish it just cause.

     It hurt. Everything hurt. Her entire body, it ached, the occasional spasm of stabbing pain in her head, her chest, her stomach. Sleep refused to come, forced to flee each time her limbs moved. Nor was that helped by the coldness, the emptiness hanging over the room. At one time, each bed had been occupied; now, only three remained to fill the space.

     A pathetic whine slipped from her lips as she rolled onto her side, hot tears running across her nose from eyes squeezed shut. This pain, she could not deal with it any longer. Every day it had built up, perpetually escalating until she could not hide it as she once had, brushing it off as a random ache, nothing to worry over. For she did not want to accept the symptoms. It was a process she had already seen a number of times, the same agony shared by each of the recruits shortly before they met their ends in the dead of night. So then, was this the prelude to her own demise? A raging cacophony of hurt of the last…how long did she have? Minutes? Hours? Days?

     Another high-pitched whine. And suddenly there was a weight slightly sinking the bed at her side.

     “Are you alright?” Pietro.

     “No,” she whispered, offering no more words, though she was truly grateful for his presence. She and the Maximoff twins – they were the final three of Strucker’s little experiments, lasted the longest, endured the most.

     “It hurts?”

     A soft “Yes” and she could not help but wonder how they felt none of these pains, Wanda soundly sleeping a few beds down and Pietro well enough to inquire to her well-being. Suddenly now, she was the weak which Strucker had always condemned, and they, the strong. It was unfair – so very unfair – and she would have complained if only she had the energy to do so.

     Then there came a slight shift in weight, Pietro’s warmth comforting her. And he gently shifted her, such that she was laid out with her head on his chest, his strong heartbeat in her ear.

     “Is this better?”

     Another soft “Yes”, and they lay in silence for a bit, Pietro running a warm hand along her arm all the while.

     Yet her thoughts turned toward the macabre nonetheless. “At least…I will…see them…again.”

     “Who?”

     “My family.” It had been years since the bombings – she missed them, her parents, her brother.

     “Your family? But they are…” he paused, as if only now realizing her meaning. “No. This won’t happen.”

     “That’s a lie.”

     “No! It’s not. I am here, right? I will protect you. Promise.”

     Had she the energy, she would have laughed. Or shook her head. Or punched him in the arm for his ridiculousness. But such was not the case any longer, and she settled on the slightest nod, a movement she was sure he could feel, as slight a movement as it was.

     Sleep came suddenly easier after that, with the warmth of Pietro’s arms, the solidness of his chest. And it came as a complete darkness, a numbness washing over her. Not one of those recent restless nights, plagued with pains and nightmares. No, this was comforting, clearing away all the bad from her recent days, as if she were no longer an experiment in eternal agony, no longer tied down to a life of revenge, though the golden lights of her friends’ presence glowed warmly in the growing void.

     Then suddenly there was something. A voice, in the distance. No, not one voice. Multiple voices. She could begin to make out the distinct ones. Her family, but not just a memory, not this time. She could feel them – really feel their presence for the first time in years. Yet, at the same time, gone was the feel of Pietro’s arms and chest and warmth. Gone was the cold, sterile room and the empty beds and the endless needles. Gone were her newfound friends.

     For a moment, she resisted the pull to her family, sending a quick thought back – back to the world of the living. Back to the boy who had cared enough to comfort her as the end drew near.

     _Thank you._

 


	14. DCTV: There's Good in Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on something from TheFandomImagine on tumblr: "Imagine Leonard Snart saving you from an abusive father because you reminded him of Lisa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to do it because it's Len, honestly. Can also be read as pre-slash Coldflash if you want, but it actually wasn't written with that intention (amazing, considering this is me). Also, I tried something a little different with the POV compared to some of the other parts of this collection, so hopefully it works out.
> 
> And trigger warning for abuse - it's not graphic, but it's there.

     It was happening. It was happening again. Your dad – he was in one of his moods again. You could hear his rampage from your room, though in the small, one-story house, that wasn’t surprising. There was a banging on the walls, some incoherent, animalistic yelling, heavy footsteps approaching your door. There were only a few moments before he burst in here, and the thought made your shoulder burn again in memory as you looked around your tiny space for somewhere to hide, something to defend yourself with, anything that would help _there had to be something where was it_ _where was it please-_?

     “You!” Your dad burst into the room, eyes wild, a bottle of beer hanging from one hand and a smoking cigarette in the other. “It’s all your fault! It’s your fault she’s gone!”

     There was nothing stopping the gasp that tore from your throat as you huddled into the corner of your bed, watching with wide eyes as your dad stormed toward you. There was some more yelling that you tried to block out, hands over your ears, but any brief respite you found in that was soon shattered, like that bottle which exploded mere inches away from your head.

     The shriek was out before you could silence it, and that only made him more angry, charging at you, forcing you to tumble off the safety from your bed, running with heavy footsteps through the house, unable to silence your sobs. You ran straight to the front door, able to undo the latch, but not quick enough to escape to the streets before a pair of hands shoved you to the floor. A kick was aimed at your side, throwing you backwards, a pain erupting in your gut. With a whimper, you crawled backwards, trying to ignore the pain, too focused on the murderous glare of the man in front of you, eyes turned black and glinting in the darkness.

     And then…there was a wall at your back, and your breath caught in your throat. Trapped.

     Desperate, you buried your head in your arms, curled up in a defensive ball, able to do nothing but cry and wait.

     But another kick didn’t come, nor another cigarette burn or gash at the mercy of broken glass. Not before things changed.

     “I would step away if I were you.” There was an unfamiliar voice coming from behind your dad, and he turned violently, drunkenly.

     “The hell are you?! And how the hell’d you get in my house?!”

     “Your front door was open.” There was a pause, and you swore you could hear the smirk on the mystery man’s face. “Now, step away from the poor girl with the misfortune of being your daughter.”

     “And who are you to make me? A cop?”

     A softly derisive snort. “Hardly. Now, I suggest doing as I say.”

     “And why’s that?”

     “You get one warning.”

     “A warning? What do you think I am, you son of a-“

     There was a metallic, almost whirring sort of sound, then a flash of ice-blue light. Your dad’s pained scream filled the night as he hunched over, before falling, unconscious, to the ground from a swift punch to the face.

     The mysterious man was in full view now, stepping toward you slowly, perfectly controlled, when the pieces fell into place. The gun holstered at his thigh, the whirring sound, his voice. You tried to press yourself further up against the wall when he crouched down in front of you. “Hey, kid,” his voice was different now, softer, and you weren’t sure what to make of that, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

     Though that wasn’t to say that entirely mitigated your fear. “You – I – I’ve seen you. On the news. You fight against the Flash. You’re – you’re Captain Cold.”

     “You know who I am?”

     You nodded. “You’re the bad guy.” Except, even as you said that, something felt…off…about it. “How – how can I trust you? How can I know you’re not gonna hurt me more and –“

     “I won’t. I promise.”

     “Why not?” You were curious. He hurt people all the time! What was so different now?

     A thoughtful look passed over his features. “Let’s just say you remind me of someone.”

* * *

 

     Barry almost didn’t want to believe it. He really had thought there was some good in Snart; he wouldn’t lie about that sort of thing. And after tipping him off about Jesse and Mardon, plus his adventures with the Legends, well, he’d been pretty damn sure he was right. But now, walking into Saints and Sinners with the testimony from the victim and the sight of frostbitten hands in his head?

     Barry Allen felt betrayed.

     “Getting slow there, Scarlet. I used my gun last night and no one tried to stop me. Past your bedtime, was it?” Snart was there at the bar – eerily similar to the night they’d met there before the fiasco at Ferris Air – and hadn’t even turned around when Barry approached. And that only grated on his last nerve even more as he took the adjacent bar stool.

     “Where is she?”

     “You know the place.” And Barry nodded to himself. The warehouse where Snart planned his heists. Not exactly a whole lot of other places Barry associated with the man, aside from their current location. “Although something tells me you’re here for more than just that. Why don’t you ask away? You clearly want to.”

     It was that statement that really irked him enough to ask, because _how did Snart read him so well?_ “I just wanna know why. A kid, Snart? A kid? I thought you were better than this! Better than abducting little kids and hurting their parents without a reason and –“

     “Without a reason? I’m disappointed in you, Barry. I was expecting more. Maybe you should do your research before outright accusing people.” And at that, he stood and turned to walk a few paces, only to stop shortly after. “The girl should be waking up soon. I suggest you be there when she does. I have a feeling she’ll be able to clear up quite a bit of this for you.”

     Barry growled at the man’s back, reluctantly doing as he said and speeding to the warehouse, finding the little girl in moments. She stirred at the sound of his footsteps, rubbing her eyes drowsily. “Hi Y/N. Are you okay? I’m just here to help you.”

     “Are you Barry?”

     He started, “Yeah,” coming out of his mouth before he could stop it.

     “He said a nice man would come and get me and that his name was Barry.”

     Barry almost wanted to laugh. Of course Snart had expected him to come. “Do you remember who the man was who brought you here?”

     “Yeah.” She sat up. “It was Captain Cold.”

     She said it so casually, so unafraid, even sitting in the lair of one of Barry’s more dangerous nemeses; there was definitely something more going on here. “And he was nice to you?”

     A vigorous head shake in affirmation. “He was. He made sure I was okay. He’s not like how he is on the news.”

     Barry grinned; that was what Barry had been saying to the man. Even a kid had him more figured out than he cared to admit. “I know.”

     “You do?”

     Barry felt his face heat up for a second, having spoken without thinking again and needed to correct it. “Can I tell you a secret?” The girl nodded her head, a barely contained grin on her face. “I hear that even the Flash has worked with Captain Cold before.”

     “Really?”

     “Yup. But remember, no one’s supposed to know about that, okay?” She nodded again, and Barry made to stand. “C’mon. I’m gonna take you back, okay?”

     And then her mirth faded suddenly, just washing off of her face. “Are you gonna take me back home? He said I wouldn’t have to go back.”

     Barry tilted his head in consideration. “Snart said that?” The man rarely – no, never – did anything without reason.

     She nodded again, less vigorously as when they’d been talking about the Flash. “My dad…he’s…” She started to rub at a point on her forearm, and Barry gently lifted her hand away.

     A small, circular scar.

     Suddenly, things were clicking into place. “Was there anything else he said to you?” Barry was almost certain of the man’s motives now.

     “Just that I reminded him of someone he important to him.”

     Lisa. Of course. Snart might still think of himself as a villain, but, in all honesty, he wasn’t really a bad guy.

     To the girl, Barry nodded, giving her an encouraging smile. “If you come back with me, I can make sure your dad doesn’t hurt you anymore, okay? I promise you’ll be safe from now on.” He held out a hand, and she took it, following Barry back to the Precinct, where he’d make certain that everything would be sorted out the right way.

     And the next day, he would go seek out Snart again, if only to thank the man for what he did, nevermind whatever scoffing dissention he might get in return. Not just because Barry could begin to understand the man, his motives, what he would and wouldn’t stand for – although, it was true that he did, and couldn’t disagree with all of them. But because, between the incident with Lewis, his adventures with Rip Hunter, and this most recent development of character, Barry knew his earlier assessment to be correct.

     There was good in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, can't resist the little Coldflash plug, but if Barry and Len were to get together, I can imagine them adopting the reader character. Just sayin'.


	15. TH: Con Amore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on imaginexhobbit's "Imagine teaching the Comapny all your favorite songs from your favorite musicals."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've added to this, so I'm sorry if I'm a little rusty with this universe. But enjoy some slightly angsty FilixReader!

     Falling into Middle Earth had been, well…

     Unexpected was probably the understatement of the century. Or Age. If you could remember right, Lord of the Rings lore had always been told regarding different Ages.

     Falling, on the other hand, was probably a bit of an over-exaggeration. It was less a fall and more…random transportation. Not that you were complaining! You’d been taking a walk in the woods around your home town, violin case strapped over your shoulder as you searched for a quiet place to practice. Idyllic bliss had been what you were going for, but then all of a sudden, instead you’d gotten a company of thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard all surrounding you, a particularly broody Thorin Oakenshield glaring at your sudden appearance. Honestly, it was probably just a lucky thing he hadn’t decided to kill you for your unexplained presence. Even luckier when Gandalf decided to let you tag along (apparently visitors from another dimension were of interest to wizards. Who would’ve guessed?)

     On one hand, it was actually nice, in a way. Middle Earth _was_ pretty damn idyllic, especially by the time you didn’t have to keep looking over your shoulder in fear of more death glares. But on the other, you really did miss home. You’d been in rehearsals for a musical, and it was never far from your mind now, snippets of songs constantly flitting through your head to the beat of the horses’ hooves.

     “I don’t mean to be rude, but,” Kili appeared at your side, practically out of nowhere. How lost had you gotten in your own head? “What is that you’re singing? I’ve never heard it before.”

     “Come now, lad,” Bofur was suddenly at your other side. Were dwarves normally this stealthy? You never would’ve guessed. “Our songs are different than those of men. I would be surprised if any of our number could recognize their songs.”

     “I’d be surprised, too,” you interrupted, “but, probably not for the same reasons you’re thinking of.” Really, the only songs you could remember from Middle Earth were the one sung by Tom Bombadil. And Pippin’s song. The movies really didn’t do justice to all the song writing in the books. “The thing I’m singing – it’s comes from the same place I do. Not from here. Actually,” you laughed a little, “you might catch me doing this a lot. All of them come from my world.”

     “Oh!” Kili’s eyes brightened, a smile on his lips. “Could you perhaps sing them to us? I’m certain you have an incredible voice.”

     “Yeah…I’m gonna have to take a pass on that. Trust me, my singing voice is passable, at best.” Quite literally. You were decent enough to hold a tune and pass your college singing class (required for your degree) but that was about it. In tune – mostly – but hardly beautiful.

     “Y/N…” Kili whined, dark eyes wide with the most pitiful puppy-dog expression you had ever seen. “Please? Even if, by chance, you are terrible, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

     “Cause that’s so encouraging to hear.” You shot him a friendly smirk. “How about you wait until we set up camp for the night? I’ll play it on my violin and teach you the words.” You patted your case fondly. “You can tell me if I’m wrong, but don’t you play, too?” It was one of the details you remembered clearly from the Hobbit. For probably obvious reasons.

     “Yes! And so does my brother!” Kili gestured up ahead to where Fili rode near Gandalf, discussing…something. Before turning back to you, head tilted to the side and eyebrows furrowed. “How did you know that?”

     “Little birdie told me.” You grinned and explained further, Kili just as confused as before, if not more so. “I think I heard it from one of the Company. Can’t remember who it was.”

     “Did Uncle tell you?”

     You actually laughed at that. “Pretty sure I’m not on speaking terms with your uncle. Am I even on speaking terms with your brother? I can’t really tell.”

     “I wouldn’t worry about that. Fili likes you, just had a bit too much on his mind, I suppose. In fact,” Kili’s eyes shone again; you were pretty sure that was his default setting, “he can hear you play tonight! He was far better than I ever was. Perhaps you two have more in common than you know.”

     With that somewhat cryptic statement, Kili was off again, heading to check on Bilbo, who was faring arguably worse than even you were. Come nightfall, Kili was back at your side, his older brother in tow, basically demanding that you teach them the song you’d been singing earlier that day. Which was how you ended up surrounded by a group of rowdy dwarves belting out _Do You Hear the People Sing?_ by the light of a campfire as you giggled with your violin hooked beneath your chin. Apparently the dwarves were into musical theatre pieces about the mess that history books called France. To think, a production of _Les Mis_ put on by dwarves. You would pay an arm and a leg (maybe even a kidney) to see that.

     When it came to other music, well, the dwarves’ enthusiasm made up for any lack of skill. By which you meant that _Hamilton_ wasn’t really something in their repertoire. Rapping just wasn’t really a thing in Middle Earth (unsurprisingly) and probably went slightly over their heads. But they tried, and you ended up with quite possibly the most energetic rendition of _Yorktown_ you’d ever heard, which was all you could really ask for. At some point in the evening, the requests began to change, Ori asking if you knew other types of songs, too. After all, _Do You Hear the People Sing?_ and a decent amount of _Hamilton_ were exciting songs, and sunset called for a new kind of music. A few selections out of _Into the Woods_ , _Allegiance_ , and even some _Hit List_ had the Company’s ear for quite a while; eventually, you and Fili randomly held each other’s gaze, him giving you a small smile that had you immediately looking away, Kili’s earlier words in your head. You were being ridiculous. For real, what was wrong with you? The embarrassingly flustered part of your brain was probably what was responsible for eventually choosing to fall back onto _Phantom_ , the upper octaves of some of the melodies getting more than a few impressed stares from the rest of the Company. Which, unsurprisingly, ended with Bofur requesting you teach him the lyrics.

     The completely mortification melted away at that, and you laughed through your response. “Tomorrow, okay? But maybe not the last one. I don’t really think you’ll be able to hit those notes. Unless you know something I don’t?”

     Unfortunately, the universe on the whole seemed to know something you didn’t, or else you wouldn’t have been caught off guard when Thorin approached, clearly not in the mood, ordering the other dwarves to set up camp for the night. While ordering you to stay out of the way. Clear enough he didn’t trust you. Not that you minded too much, wandering off with your violin, listening to the way the notes echoed across the open land. _Run Away with Me_ sounded particularly beautiful in this setting, if sorta nonsensical to the situation. Not like you could really run away without probably getting slaughtered by orcs or mauled by wargs, and who would that even be with? Every person you were close with was worlds away, literally, and you didn’t have the slightest clue how to get back to them. You would run _back_ to them if you could’ve had the chance. Although, even back home, there wasn’t really anyone who would be able to sing that to you, or anyone you could sing that to, either. You’d hoped, but, well, what was really the use now?

     “Y/N?”

     You spun in place, the older of the princes watching you from across the clearing you’d meandered into. “Fili! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

     He smiled, glancing downward. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who should be apologizing for forgetting to introduce myself, and for sneaking up on you.”

     “No, no it’s totally fine. I was just lost in my head anyway. I thought Thorin wanted all of you setting up camp?”

     “We have. I was sent to look for you.”

     “You…shit, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done this. I mean, I have a decent sense of direction, but I’d probably never have been able to find my way back alone.”

     “Trust me, it’s perfectly alright.” He signaled for you to follow him back to camp before speaking again as you walked. “You play beautifully. Another song from one of your musicals?”

     “Yeah, yeah, it’s one of my favorites actually. But that’s probably ‘cause I’m not a pianist and had to accompany all the singers who audition with it.” You were rambling. Why were you rambling?

     Thankfully, Fili didn’t comment on it, actually holding a sane conversation, unlike you, apparently. “What’s it about? The song. I’m curious.”

     “Love. And…doing anything for that love. Even when the world doesn’t want you to.”

     Fili hummed slightly, in thought. “Perhaps you could teach it to me tomorrow. After you teach Bofur your other songs, of course.” The last part was said with just a bit of mischievousness, enough to make you laugh.

     “I think you mean after I try. If you’re all woken up by ungodly screeching, blame him, not me. I’m still sure agreeing to that was the worst decision I’ve ever made.”

* * *

 

      The days and few weeks to come passed by surprisingly quietly. No imminent fear of death (well, at least from anywhere other than Thorin), and a bunch of peaceful nights during which you could bond with the Company. There were still occasional requests to hear songs from your world that usually did turn into the dwarf version of campfire sing-alongs, and those always lifted your spirits. Aside from that, you got the chance to actually learn more about each of the dwarves; Peter Jackson _and_ Tolkien both had done most of them an injustice, really.

     Especially Fili.

     Kili hadn’t been exactly right about how much the two of you actually had in common, but after he’d been sent to find you that one night, you did spend much more time together. Usually it was just talking, or sometimes finding a quiet corner and gazing at stars that were different than the ones you knew, dotted across the skies, bright without the lights of big cities. Pretty soon, you both knew more about each other than you’d really figured was possible, considering the whole alternate universe thing. He told you tales of his childhood, growing up in Ered Luin with his mother and uncle, never really understanding their history until he’d come of age. He and Kili had been told stories about dragons and kingdoms and warriors, of course (really, like a lot of the stories you’d heard, too, as a kid) but the dragon that had taken _their_ home was another matter entirely. The weight of being a prince, being responsible for getting their people back home and the consequences should they actually succeed – all when Erebor had never really felt like his home, when a future in which they succeeded never felt like the life he wanted. He did care about the mission, their people, but his first priority would always be the ones he loved; he’d never bring it up to Thorin, but there were plenty of times when he didn’t agree with his uncle about this entire journey.

     Maybe (or obviously) you couldn’t exactly relate to that, but that didn’t end up mattering. Not when you would talk on other nights about all the things running through your own head. How much you missed home, all the things you’d left behind – all the dwarves knew about that. But then also the conflict there now. Because, somehow, you didn’t really want to leave anymore. Home meant everything you knew, but also everything you knew you didn’t really know yet. The future, family, career, relationships – balancing all of those when just really figuring out one seemed impossible enough, but being expected to get it all right just the same. Middle Earth felt like a fairy tale, in comparison, because there weren’t any masks to wear, trying to please all the right people in all the right places. You were just you, and you liked that.

     Among other things that made you wanna stick around. Things you didn’t tell anyone for a million other reasons.

     But then the orc attack happened, bringing you all to Rivendell, and it seemed like things had changed somehow.

     Not that most of the Company really seemed to notice, having too much fun antagonizing the elves. Kili basically demanded that you take your violin out again and accompany their more raucous drinking songs. Eventually, the excitement did wear down, though, pretty much in line with when the elves stopped shooting their group skeptical side-eye glances (apparently the elves giving up on them made things less fun). At that point, most of the Company – save Thorin, Balin, Bilbo, and Gandalf – began to drop off to sleep, and your muscle memory took over, the melody of _Story of Tonight_ being carried out across the hidden valley.

     It seemed weirdly fitting.

     By the time the super-secret meeting with Elrond finished, you stashed away your instrument for a private word with the lord of Rivendell, before finding a secluded balcony and reclining against a pillar, breathing in the night air, not paying much attention to the rest of the world.

     “Y/N?”

     “Fili?” You turned toward your friend, his blue eyes soft and eyebrows furrowed slightly. He wasn’t stupid; he knew something was wrong. “You okay?” Easy deflection.

     “Yes, I’m fine, I just…I realized you were gone, and…” he trailed off, looking away.

     “Well you found me.” You patted the ground at your side. “You’re welcome to join.”

     He did, looking ready to ask you what was wrong. Except… “What was that?”

     You were completely caught off guard. “What?”

     “With your hands. You were doing it just now, before you saw me, and I’ve seen you do it while we were riding, too. The same motions.” He held out his hand, thumb and pinky finger stuck out, gently raising and lowering it.

     “Oh!” The sign language. Sometimes you didn’t even notice it at this point. “It’s…the lyrics to another song, actually. People who can’t hear, they talk with their hands, and there’s a group that does musicals with that language, too. I’m a bit of a fan,” you finished with forced lightness.

     Fili nodded, quiet. “Y/N…I won’t mind if you don’t want to talk about it, but…what’s wrong? You disappeared, and…”

     “No, it’s…it’s fine.” Really, it was. He deserved to know, if you were being honest. “I…talked to Elrond. About…staying here. Just for a while, until I figure out what to do.”

     “What? No…no you can’t.”

     “Fili, you and I both know I’m not a fighter. I’m gonna get myself killed at worst, or just hold you all back at best. Well, that and…” Oh, shit.

     “And what?”

     “You,” came your answer, breathed out and at length. “I just…I can’t.”

     “Why not? I care about you, too, Y/N. I was afraid to tell you, afraid you might not feel the same, but if you do –“

     “No, Fili, that’s not it.”

     “Then what?”

     “It’s…it’s what the song is about. The one you keep seeing me signing. Love that isn’t gonna work ‘cause it just hurts in the end instead.”

     “But you can’t know that.”

     “You’re right, and that’s why I can’t risk it. I’m not from this world, and I still can’t promise what that’s gonna end up meaning.”

     “You said you like it here. I don’t mean to take you from your family, but…”

     “It’s not just that. It’s…” the fact that, if this played out the way you’d read and seen, then he wouldn’t make it out alive. You didn’t know if there was anything you could do about that. “Just trust me. Please.”

     He sighed, but didn’t push. “So then, this might be the last time I see you?”

     “Aside from tomorrow morning, possibly.”

     “Will you show me the song? All of it, just for something to remember you by.”

     You smiled, even though it felt forced. “Sure.” Signing and singing at once, you mirrored the performance you’d seen so many times online, except that there was no slick piano to slide across to deliver that kiss. And maybe that was all for the best, really. Although the shared signs brought the two of you closer, hugging tightly as you trailed out of the chorus, both of your breaths labored.

     “Be safe, okay?”

     “I promise.”

* * *

 

      A whole year passed, and very little seemed to ever change. You spent your days in Rivendell, Elrond always off to chat with either Saruman or Galadriel or a different powerful someone every day. About Sauron, no doubt, not that you could tell them that without raising suspicion. Aside from that – the slowly rising tension over the darkness on the horizon – you wouldn’t have known the days passed at all. The elves couldn’t find any way for you to return to your world (interdimensional travel wasn’t really understood, big surprise there) and you couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing. You did miss your family, your home, everything you’d grown up with. But you’d be lying if you said your mind wasn’t on Fili way too often. Technically, you knew he made it to Erebor without any harm coming to him, but that didn’t exactly make the waiting game any easier. Especially when you knew what you were waiting for, ultimately.

     Maybe it would be better to go home. Not like you wanted to hear that he’d died in person. The movie was bad enough, even with how little importance it actually gave that. The book, too, honestly. He deserved so much better than that, than just…dying and…and…

     You missed him. So damn much.

     By the time the year had passed, you honestly hadn’t even noticed it. You only became aware of it when word came to Rivendell that the battle at Erebor had been won. That word…and a letter for you. The dread of opening that letter sent you back to that secluded balcony you’d last seen him, and your breath caught as you opened the page.

     A letter from him, asking you to come to Erebor, hoping beyond hope that you hadn’t left, because all he wanted was to be able to see you again. Thorin had survived – injured, but ultimately alright – and he’d been hurt too, but not badly. Kili was in his usual high spirits, spending most of his days with a female elf they’d met along the way.

     Somehow, things had changed. You had no clue how that was even possible, but it wasn’t like you cared, packing all your things to see him again and basically demanding that you be given a way to get to Erebor. Maybe this wasn’t destined to turn out badly, and like hell you were about to give that up.

     Someday, you would find a way to get back, to tell your family what had happened, but, given the thundering beat of your heart in your chest as you rode toward Erebor, that wasn’t home anymore. No, home was where you could see your golden prince again, because now? It was time to teach him a happier love song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple fun facts:  
> "Con Amore" is Italian for "With Love", because Italian is the language for music. And the last song I'm referencing is [ "Word of Your Body (Reprise)" specifically from Deaf West's performance of "Spring Awakening" ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5ndU5y7gh4). It's an absolutely fantastic song, coupled with really really great blocking. Highly recommend.


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